CHAPTER IV.

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 11, 27 November 1880, Page 93

CHAPTER IV.

EXTRACT OF EXAMINATION OP JOHN HARRIS, EMPLOYED TO DO UP THE GARDEN, AND WHO HAD BEEN WORKING ABOUT THE PREMISES FOB THE LAST TJSN DAYS. "Q-—When did you become aware of the assassination into which we are inquiring ? "A.—An hour ago.

" Q. — Did you notice any tiling extraordinary last evening, or during the night ? "A. — No, sir. "Q. — As the window of Mr. Hardcastle's room looks on to the courtyard, and you live opposite, it appears strange that the cries of the victim did not reach you. "A. — I had visitors, my brother-in-law, and a cousin of my wife, who Avere in my house the whole evening. We were taking om- coffee with a dash of brandy in it up to eleven o'clock, and we heard nothing. "Q.— At what hour did Mr. Hardcastle come home yesterday ? " A. —At half -past seven ; as soon as possible after his dinner.

" Q.— Did you speak to him? " A. — Yes, sir, to ask him if he wanted me. He said that he did not, adding that he was going to write two or three letters, and that he should retire to bed early, in order to be up in time for the arrival of the coach the following day. I asked him if I should call him, but he said that it would be useless as he was sure to awake of Ms own accord, if indeed he succeeded in sleeping at all. " Q. — You had attended on Mr. Hardcastle, then, for some days ? "A. — Yes, sir, I went up to him for orders at ten o'clock every morning, and saw him. no more until his return in the evening. " Q. — Had he any visitors ? "a. — Two or three friends, but always the same. They invariably appeared to be in a hurry, conversed for a moment on business matters, and then left immediately. "Q. — You have not lately noticed any stranger with Mr. Hardcastle ? "A. — I forgot, sir. The day before yesterday, about five o'clock, a person called whom I had never seen. He was a tall, fair, young man, very elegant and very good-looking, but with a used-up manner. On hearing that Mr. Hardcastle had gone out and would probably not return, he appeared very much annoyed, and said that he would call again on the following morning. " Q.— And did he ? " A. — .No, sir.

" Q — You are quite sure of that ? "A. — Yes, sir, 1 even remarked upon the circumstance to Mr. Hardcastle, who replied, * Oh, his visit is of no importance.' " Q. — To receive such an answer, you must have known his name and mentioned it to Mr. Hardcastle ?

"A. — No, sir, but I described him to Mr. Hardcastle, and he recognised him at once. "Q. — Are you positive that this person did not return last night ? " A. — I did not see him,

" Q. — You would easily recognise him again if you were to see him ? A. — "Very easily.

" Q. — Have you examined the dagger paperknife found in the room, with which the crime was evidently committed ? "A. —Yes, sir. It was I who first saw it, and I at once called the police-constable. " Q. — This knife probably did not belong to Mr. Hardcastle ?

"A. — On the contrary, sir, it was always on the table where he Avorked, and he has made use of it on several occasions as a paper-knife. " Q. — Think well of what you are saying, as this is a detail of great importance. "A. — I am quite certain I am right. Besides, Mrs. Hardcastle, and all his friends know the dagger." CONFIDENTIAL MEMORANDA FURNISHED BY THE COMMISSIONER OF POLICE. "At the time of his death Maurice Hardcastle could not have had any considerable effects in his house. On the previous evening he had- lodged two thousand pounds, the produce of his savings and his latest earning*, with Mr. B — , a broker, whom he had commissioned to buy government stock to that amount in the name oi his wife. As regards any scrip entrusted to him by his clients, whether for sale or transfer, it is a well-known fact that Mr. Hardcastle was in the habit of depositing them in the bank or with Mr. X—,K — , who has at this time in his possession some railway shares. " Mr. Hardcastle had only a small number of clients of long standing, and he rarely made new ones. This reserve was generally attributed to a heavy loss which he has sustained in the year 18 — , at the hands of a certain broker, who absconded to America when liable for considerable differences.

" Another person, known on the Exchange as Leopold Brownpath, was also thought to have been for three years in debt to Mr. Hardcastle to the extent of about eight hundred pounds. This debt gave rise last year .to an unpleasant scene. Mr. Hardcastle, suddenly catching sight of his creditor, went straight xxp to him in the Exchange, and said, in a loud, angry tone — ' When a man neglects to pay his differences and disappears on settling day, he ought, at all events, to have sufficient sense of shame to prevent him showing himself here. ' ' ' ' Sir, ' replied Brownpath with considerable assurance, ' I do not require any lessons from you.' " ' You'll receive one to-day, at any rate, for I'll show you the door and shut the Exchange against you henceforward. ' "It "would probably have been a case of a *word and a blow,' although Hardcastle's adversary was a big man, if several persons had not hastened to interfere. The result of the affair was, that Brownpath, in order to appear again on the Exchange, had to give bills to the amount of eight hundred pounds, which would become due some time in the present month. It appears, moreover, that these bills have never been put into circulation, Mr. Hardcastle having kept them in his own house. He remarked lately to Mr. Skinner, one of his friends, who lives at Shepherd's Bush, and from whom we have this information direct, that he knew the bills would not be met at maturity. He knew, he added, that he would have to pay for his •whistle, seeing that the law does not recognise debts arising from speculations, but that he should, nevertheless, take proceedings for his own satisfaction against Brownpath, whose cool effrontery and bad faith had disgusted him. He added, in a very bitter tone, that he had often obliged people who owed him money when they nad found

themselves involved in unfortunate circumstances beyond their own control, but this was not the case with Brpwnpath. As regarded him, he awaited with impatience the moment when he could tell him what he thought of him. " Such is the information gathered up to-day. Anything further that may come to my knowledge shall be communicated in due course. "On the Exchange, where Maurice Hardcastle was much liked and esteemed, his death has caused a great sensation. Every moment I see groups forming, whose sole topic of conversation is the tragedy in the St. John's Wood. Eleanor remained a prey to the most profound grief. She had been precipitated in an instant from the height of happiness to the depth "of an irremediable misfortune. She had arrived, after a long absence, almost beside herself at the idea of return, intoxicated, as it were, with the thought of again seeing him she loved so well, quivering with happiness aud feverish with impatience, when suddenly, without any preparation, without even the slightest clue towards a suspicion of misfortune, she found Death holding full sway in her home, with crime at her bedside. The arms which she fondly hoped to see stretched out to clasp her in their fond embrace lay powerless and cold ; the heart wont to beat in unison with her own was still, and the lips, which would have sought hers, were pale and chill as ice. When one we love falls a prey to serious illness we rush to his assistance, we lavish on him all our care, we surround him with every tenderness, we love him so much the more that he has not long to be with us, all our affection is bestowed on him. The disease increases in intensity, and we cling more and more closely as he seems to be slipping from our hold, we hang upon his words, we seek to divine his latest wish, we long to do something for him, however small. His last thought is for us, for us his latest word, his parting smile. And when he is no more we live in his short past, and the mementoes he has left, all cruel though they be, aid us, perhaps, to suffer with greater courage and more complete resignation. But to sustain a blow such as that which, befell Eleanor so unexpectedly, and not to have had the supreme consolation of dwelling on a word, a kiss, a 100k — to have left a man in the pride of his strength, his health, and his love, and to return to a corpse — it was horrible ! And near her was no mother, no relative, not even a friend but Mary, and she alone. _ For Eleanor Avas a stranger in London, and giving herself up to her passionate love, she had never, in the egotism of that feeling, thought of making friends or surrounding herself with acquaintances. If only she could pray and weep at will near that dead form which she felt to be her all — but no, even that did not belong to her, but to Justice. To Justice belonged the right of watching it, of caring for it, of ordering a "post mortem" examination, should there be one. Justice was father, mother, widow, relatives, all in one, seeing that it represented more than a family — it stood in the place of society outraged by a crime. And this crime, notwithstanding the mystery which enveloped it, and which we have not yet penetrated, could not remain unpunished. How will Justice set about her task ? [To be continued."}