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Munafa ebook

Read Ebook: Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature Science and Art fifth series no. 118 vol. III April 3 1886 by Various

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'Of course he will,' Nora replied, drawing herself up and laughing quietly. 'But I don't care a bit, you know, for all his anger. I'm not going to keep away from a dear old darling like you, and a dear, good, kind fellow like Edward, all for nothing, just to please him. He may storm away as long as he has a mind to; but I tell you what, my dear, he shan't prevent me.'

'I don't mind a bit about it now, Nora, since you're come at last to me.'

'Mind it, darling! I should think not! Why on earth should you mind it? It's too preposterous! Why, Marian, whenever I think of it--though I'm a West Indian born myself, and dreadfully prejudiced, and all that wicked sort of thing, you know--it seems to me the most ridiculous nonsense I ever heard of. Just consider what kind of people these are out here in Trinidad, and what kind of people you and Edward are, and all your friends over in England! There's my cousin, Tom Dupuy, now, for example; what a pretty sort of fellow he is, really. Even if I didn't care a pin for you, I couldn't give way to it; and as it is, I'm going to come here just as often as ever I please, and nobody shall stop me. Papa and Tom are always talking about the fighting Dupuys; but I can tell you they'll find I'm one of the fighting Dupuys too, if they want to fight me about it.--Now, tell me, Marian, doesn't it seem to you yourself the most ridiculous reversal of the natural order of things you ever heard of in all your life, that these people here should pretend to set themselves up as--as being in any way your equals, darling?' And Nora laughed a merry little laugh of pure amusement, so contagious, that Edward and Marian joined in it too, for the first time almost since they came to that dreadful Trinidad.

Companionship and a fresh point of view lighten most things. Nora stopped with the two Hawthorns all that day till nearly dinnertime, talking and laughing with them much as usual after the first necessary explanations; and by five o'clock, Marian and Edward were positively ashamed themselves that they had ever made so much of what grew with thinking on it into so absurdly small and unimportant a matter. 'Upon my word, Marian,' Edward said, as Nora rode away gaily, unprotected--she positively wouldn't allow him to accompany her homeward--'I really begin to believe it would be better after all to stop in Trinidad and fight it out bravely as well as we're able for just a year or two.'

'I thought so from the first,' Marian answered courageously; 'and now that Nora has cheered us up a little, I think so a great deal more than ever.'

When Nora reached Orange Grove, Mr Dupuy stood, black as thunder, waiting to receive her in the piazza. Two negro men-servants were loitering about casually in the doorway.

'Nora,' he said, in a voice of stern displeasure, 'have you been to visit these new nigger people?'

Nora glanced back at him defiantly and haughtily. 'I have not,' she answered with a steady stare. 'I have been calling upon my very dear friends, the District Court Judge and Mrs Hawthorn, who are both our equals. I am not in the habit of associating with what you choose to call nigger people.'

Mr Dupuy's face grew purple once more. He glanced round quickly at the two men-servants. 'Go to your room, miss,' he said with suppressed rage--'go to your room, and stop there till I send for you!'

'I was going there myself,' Nora answered calmly, without moving a muscle. 'I mean to remain there, and hold no communication with the rest of the family, as long as you choose to apply such unjust and untrue names to my dearest friends and oldest companions.--Rosina, come here, please! Have the kindness to bring me up some dinner to my own boudoir.'

POPULAR LEGAL FALLACIES.

BY AN EXPERIENCED PRACTITIONER.

Perjury is a crime which strikes at the very root of the administration of justice; for if no reliable evidence could be obtained, it would be impossible to enforce by means of legal proceedings the rights of those who had been wronged, or to settle in a satisfactory manner the thousands of disputes which come yearly before the various courts. And yet, we fear that this pernicious practice is more common than is generally supposed. Our opinion is that nineteen persons out of every twenty who will tell an untruth will swear to it as a truth--that is to say, looking at the matter from the moral standpoint alone. The fear of punishment has a deterring effect upon some; but the offence is one which is very difficult of detection if well managed. If two or three persons swear to a consistent story, and an equal, or even a greater, number contradict their evidence on oath, who is to decide which set of witnesses are to be believed, and which are to be prosecuted for perjury? The punishment on conviction may be any term of penal servitude not exceeding seven years, or imprisonment, with hard labour, for a term not exceeding two years; and some people are afraid of risking this--in which fear lies the principal practical advantage of administering an oath to a witness before he gives evidence in court.

Some persons have a variety of ingenious but vain expedients which they hope will enable them to lie in the witness-box with impunity; and while gratifying their personal spite, or earning the wages of falsehood, to evade the pains and penalties attendant upon the practice of perjury, and the object of this paper is to show how futile the supposed precautions are, and in what consists the essence of the oath, and the violation of it which will render the offender liable to punishment for the perjury committed by him.

The form of taking the oath varies in different nations; but in all, the essence of the ceremony is the adjuration addressed to a superior Power to attest the truth of what the witness is going to assert. The witness who thought that if he told a lie after having taken the oath, all the jurymen would be sent to everlasting perdition, was an extreme illustration of the misconceptions which exist on this subject. Most people know that the invocation of the Almighty--'So help me God'--is one the consequences of which are intended to be personal to themselves. But they dishonour their Maker if they try to escape from the consequences by a trick.

The form of oath varies according to the circumstances and purpose in and for which it is taken. The manner of administration to a Christian witness south of the Border is the same. The witness takes the Holy Gospels in his right hand, and after the form of oath has been read over to him, he reverently kisses the book; that is to say, he is supposed to kiss the book; but some persons will, instead of the book, kiss their own thumb, or avoid contact between their lips and the book by holding it at an imperceptible distance. This is a very common, perhaps the most common, mode of attempted evasion. But another is often attempted, which is more easy of detection--that is to say, keeping on the glove, in order that the hand and book may not become actually in contact with each other. It may appear unnecessary to say that these devices are both equally unavailing for the purpose intended. The essence of the oath lies in the reverent assent to the appeal to the Almighty and omniscient God. The witness must at least pretend to assent to the formulary read over to him, and if he does this, he is sworn to all intents and purposes. As the oath is complete in its religious sense, so also is its legal effect the same whether the hand and the lips actually touch the cover of the book or not. It has long been the practice to insist upon the witness holding the book in his or her right hand; but this is by some writers held to be wrong, inasmuch as the left hand is supposed to be nearer to the heart, and would receive a more bountiful portion of the blood which is the life, were not its natural advantages counterbalanced by the effects of daily labour; therefore, it is contended by them that the left hand ought to be used in holding the book, when the oath is taken.

Hebrews are sworn upon the Old Testament, and the witness puts on his hat before taking the oath; while a Christian invariably uncovers his head for the purpose. A Chinaman breaks a saucer, the idea being somewhat similar to our oath--that is to say, he thereby devotes his soul to destruction if his testimony should be untrue. A Brahmin swears with his hand upon the head of one of the bulls devoted to his deity. A West African kills a bird; while his sovereign immolates a few human beings from among his subjects. And other nations have equally distinct methods of attesting their intention to speak 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.'

There is, however, one distinction between underweight and overweight which many persons lose sight of; or rather, they mistakenly deny its existence. When any article is sold by weight, it is essential that full weight should be given, or the person who sells will become liable to a penalty. But if he uses the proper weights corresponding with the standards, he will not incur a penalty by giving what is commonly called 'thumping weight;' that is to say, any want of precision in weighing, if it should result in an excess, would not form a good ground for a prosecution; while a similar discrepancy on the other side would do so. It is cruel to give a poor person a loaf of bread which is less than the authorised weight paid for; but if the weight is in excess of the amount purchased, there is not much harm done: the overweight was voluntary, and the tradesman cannot be punished for giving more than was paid for.

The penalties, exceptions, &c., applicable to weights also apply to measures; and the principal alteration made in our time is that the heaped measures so familiar to us in our youth were abolished in 1878. The standard unit of measure of capacity is the gallon, both for liquids and solids. The quart is one-fourth of a gallon, and the pint is one-eighth thereof. Two gallons are a peck; eight gallons are a bushel; eight bushels being a quarter; and thirty-six bushels, a chaldron. In using a measure of capacity, the same is not to be heaped, but either is to be stricken, as in the case of grain, with a round stick or roller, straight, and of the same diameter from end to end; or if the article sold cannot, from its size or shape, be conveniently stricken, the measure must be filled in all parts as nearly to the level of the brim as the size and shape of the article will admit. Many articles which used to be sold by measure are now sold by weight, such as fruit, vegetables, &c.; and therefore these regulations as to measuring are not quite so universally interesting as they would have been fifty years ago; while weights have acquired a greater degree of importance than they ever had in the olden times.

Every tradesman who values his reputation ought to have his scales and weights verified frequently; and in any case of any part of his weighing apparatus being out of order, the authorised inspector ought to be visited without delay, or some other efficient test should be applied. Nothing injures a tradesman more than a conviction for having defective weights or inaccurate scales in his possession. Whatever suspicions his customers may entertain as to their parcels being underweight, the certainty of such a conviction will impress them far more; and many who never previously thought of weighing their purchases, will begin to do so in consequence of seeing the conviction reported in the papers; and yet we are willing to believe that in many cases the conviction has been brought about by carelessness, and has not been a punishment for deliberate fraud.

There is a great difference between the consequences of ignorance of law and ignorance of fact. Law is supposed to be universally known, though few if any persons are acquainted with all the multifarious laws which are in existence, many of them being practically obsolete, others repealed by implication, though not expressly, and the effect of others being rendered doubtful by means of inconsistent enactments, which from time to time puzzle the judges, who have to interpret the law in case of differences of opinion on the part of other persons. The latter class of laws lead to the necessity for frequent amending statutes, and some of these are still imperfect, and need further amendments. The legal system in its more positive department is thus frequently but a doubtful path on which to walk; and the common law has its difficulties as well as the statutory law. And yet the nature of the case requires that all Her Majesty's subjects should be held bound by all the laws which are applicable to their respective positions. The rights of an unfortunate ignoramus who is kept out of his property by fraud or force are lost, and his estates become irrecoverable if those rights are not enforced within the time limited by law, although he may never have heard of there being a stipulated time for the commencement of an action.

Blackstone gives as an illustration the case of a person who, intending to kill a burglar in his own house, by mistake kills one of his own family. This being a mistake of fact, is not a criminal offence. But if another man, mistaking the law, thinks that he has a right to kill a person who is excommunicate or an outlaw, and acts upon that belief, he would be liable to be convicted for wilful murder. It may be observed that the right of a householder to kill a burglar in his dwelling-house is not an unqualified right; for in that case, a private individual would be empowered to inflict a greater punishment than would be awarded by the law after conviction. In case a burglar should attempt violence which appeared likely to lead to murder of any of the inmates of the house, the law would hold the person attacked justifiable in defending his own life, even though in doing so he were compelled to take the life of the assailant; but the necessity ought to be clearly proved, if the defence is to succeed.

In civil actions, when the facts on which the supposed cause of action arose are in dispute, and if either party has been led to make concessions to the other party by means of fraudulent misrepresentations, the ignorance of the victim of the fraud will not prevent him from taking proceedings to set aside the agreement so fraudulently obtained, when he becomes acquainted with the facts. But if the compromise were founded upon a misconception of the law, he would be bound by it; for he ought to have known the law, or employed some person who knew it to protect his interests in the matter. But having neglected this obvious precaution, he must submit to the consequences with what grace he can assume.

The system of enacting new laws is not altogether free from objection, though it is not so easy to apply a remedy as to form an objection. The laws are passed at irregular times, some coming into operation at some fixed future time; while others are binding upon all from the very day on which they receive the royal assent. It is true that when an Act of Parliament creates a new offence, and a person ignorant of its existence is convicted of the breach of such new enactment, a slight penalty is inflicted as a warning to other persons rather than as a punishment for the offender; but still the stigma remains of having been convicted for an offence against the law, which is worse to some sensitive men than a heavy fine would be to some other persons of different temperament and less unblemished previous character. The theory that all new laws should be thoroughly made known to all the persons likely to be affected thereby is like many other well-sounding theories, it possesses the inherent defect of being impracticable. This inconvenience of involuntary ignorance of new enactments has been greatly diminished of late years by the immense increase of newspapers and the general diffusion of knowledge. The Elementary Education Acts have so extended the facilities for the acquisition of the art of reading, and the taste for reading is so cultivated by cheap periodical literature, that there is much more chance now than formerly of all classes knowing something of what is being done in the way of new enactments for the guidance of the people, the parliamentary reports forming an important part of the contents of every newspaper, and newspapers have come to be classed among the necessaries of life, even by those whose incomes are of the smallest. We should, however, be glad if the legislature could devise some more efficient way of making known to all persons the laws which they are bound to observe.

FOOTNOTES:

It should be understood that this series of articles deals mainly with English as apart from Scotch law.

In Scotland, the Testament is not made use of in taking the oath. The witness is only required to hold up his right hand, and repeat the words of the oath after the administrator.

THE SIGNALMAN'S LOVE-STORY.

A song which was very popular when I was a boy, says, 'Most folks fall in love, no doubt, some time or other.' It might with equal truth have said that most folks fall in love two or three times over. I am sure it was the case with me. It was also my fate to do what, I am told, is one of the commonest things in the world--that is, to fall violently in love with a person entirely out of my own circle; not below it, like the king and the beggar-maid, but a great deal above me; with a girl, too, who was as proud and haughty and stony as Juno or a sphinx.

In the time to which I refer, nearly fifty years ago now--I am seventy-one next birthday--the railway system was in its infancy, but yet was spreading fast, and I was one of the earliest servants. It was in no exalted position that I served. My father was dead; my mother rented a small cottage on the land of the nobleman in whose service her husband had lived and died; and this nobleman recommended me to a railway Company which had just constructed a branch through his estates. I was at first a porter, but afterwards a signalman, and, as a great favour, I was assigned a post on the branch just mentioned, close to my own house. The signal was not far from the junction of the branch with the main line; a very lonely spot for a long way in either direction, although there was a thriving town some five miles down the branch; and there was a siding close by where the trucks used in the scanty local traffic were collected.

There were some cottages near my crossing--I ought to have said that there was a level crossing not far from my box--in one of these I lived; a sprinkling of farmhouses and several very good houses of a higher class were within sight. In one of these latter, not by any means the grandest, but handsome enough for all that, lived Squire Cleabyrn; and it was with his only daughter, Miss Beatrice, that I chose to fall in love. For that matter, I daresay a score of other young fellows as poor as myself were as earnestly in love with her as I was, but they probably had sufficient sense not to show their folly. I did show mine. I could not help it; and when I recall all I felt and suffered at the time, I feel I must retract my admission that others were as much in love with her as myself, but had the sense to conceal it; such a thing would have been impossible. They could not have concealed it; they might have refrained from talking about it. I did not talk; but had they seen the girl as often as I did, and looked into her face as closely as I did, they could not have hidden their infatuation from her. In return, she would have looked at them with the same haughty indifference--which yet had a something of contemptuous wonder in it--as I was treated with.

Not that my story has anything of the Lady of Lyons flavour about it; I was no Claude to an English Pauline; but this girl, this Miss Beatrice, was so amazingly beautiful that she was famed for full twenty miles around. In addition, she was one of the best horsewomen in the county, and this enabled me to see more of her than I should otherwise have done. She used to ride out, sometimes with a servant only, sometimes with a party, nearly every day; and nearly every day she came through the gates at my crossing. I tried not to look at her, feeling and knowing that there sparkled from my eager eyes more feeling than I should have allowed to escape me--but in vain. I could not withhold my gaze from that cold, dark face--she was not a blonde beauty; golden hair was not the rage in those days--or from her large, deep, unfathomable eyes, that looked through me and past me as though I had not been there, or was at best no more than a part of the barrier I swung open for her passage. Yet these eyes, as I even then knew but too well, read me to the core, while they seemed to ignore me.

I am almost ashamed to own it now, and even at this distance of time it makes my cheeks tingle to recall it, but I have wasted a whole afternoon, when I had a 'turn off,' in hope of seeing Miss Cleabyrn.

Her father's house stood on a knoll, with smooth open lawns sloping down from it on all sides, so that from my signal-box I could see when any one was walking in the front of the mansion, and when a party assembled to ride out. Well, I have actually lingered, on some feeble pretence, for four or five hours about the signal-box, in hope that she might walk on the lawn, or that she might mount and ride through our gates.

I well remember that it was on one of these afternoons that Miss Beatrice rode through with a small party. Ah! I recall them easily enough. There was one other lady, and three gentlemen. To open the gate for them, for her, was the opportunity I had been longing, waiting for, and wasting my few hours of holiday for; so I offered to do this to assist my mate, who had relieved me, and who was glad enough to be spared the labour; and I caught a full glance from the eyes of Miss Beatrice. The look was one in which she seemed to exchange glances with me. I knew it meant nothing, that it was all a delusion, and yet it would be enough to haunt me for days. I knew that also. I had never seen her look so beautiful before, and I felt my cheeks and brow turn burning hot in the instant I met this glance.

They passed. I watched them to the last--I always did--and I saw her turn her head towards the gentleman who rode by her side. The movement brought her profile so plainly in view that I could see she was smiling. As I watched her, the gentleman turned round and looked in my direction. He was smiling also; it was something beyond a smile with him, and I then reddened more with shame, than I had before done with excitement, for I knew he was laughing at me. So Miss Cleabyrn must have been laughing also; and at what? I was the subject of their ridicule, and it served me right. Yes; I knew that at the moment, but to know it did not make the bitter pang less painful.

I went back to my comrade at the signal-box. He, too, had noticed the group, and said, as I entered the hut: 'That was the party from Elm Knoll, wasn't it?--Ah! I thought so; and of course that was the celebrated Miss Cleabyrn. You know who that was riding by her side, I suppose?'

'No,' I said, answering as calmly as I could; I was almost afraid to trust my voice.

'That's a young fellow, a captain from somewhere,' continued my mate, 'who is going to marry Miss Cleabyrn. He has got a lot of money. So has she. Sam Powell, who drives the night-mail, knows him, and told me all about it.'

As the speaker had no idea of the absurd state I was in, he took no particular notice of me, but changed the subject, and went on with some indifferent topic.

I was glad he did so, for although I had an utter contempt for myself and for my folly in allowing the conduct or the future of Miss Cleabyrn to excite me, yet I could not have conversed on such a theme as her marriage; while the knowledge that the person to whom I had been ridiculed--I felt sure of that--was her avowed lover, seemed to increase the bitterness of the sting tenfold.

I had ample opportunity of seeing that the report which I had heard was likely, at anyrate, to be founded in fact, as the stranger, the 'captain from somewhere,' remained a guest at Elm Knoll for fully a fortnight, during which time not a day passed without my seeing both him and Miss Cleabyrn, and sometimes more than once each day. So I came to know him by sight as well as I did her. He was a frank, handsome, young fellow; that I could see, and was obliged to own; and in his speech he was pleasant. This was shown by his stopping on two or three occasions, when riding alone, to ask me some questions, as I opened the gate for him.

I was sure he made these occasions, and at first disliked him for it; but I could not continue to bear ill-will against a man of such kindly open manners, so I relented, and, ere he left the neighbourhood, used to look forward with pleasure to seeing him. This was a sad falling-off from my previous lofty mood, and so was my accepting a cigar from him as he rode through. In fact, although I have no doubt 'written myself an ass,' as our old friend Dogberry would have said, yet at the worst I was not without some glimmering of sense, which saved me from making an absolute example of myself.

Even during the short time in which the captain--I did not know his name--was visiting at Elm Knoll, the heat and surge of my absurd passion had perceptibly moderated, and just then several circumstances combined to restore me to a right frame of mind.

After the captain's departure, Miss Beatrice left home on a prolonged visit, so that I did not see her; and at the same time I met Patty Carr, who was, in her way, quite as pretty as Beatrice Cleabyrn, although not nearly so haughty; and my heart being specially tender and open to impression just then, I suppose, I speedily thought more of her than of the young lady at Elm Knoll. Indeed we were married the next year.

At the time I speak of, a good many things were in vogue, or at least had not died out, which have quite vanished now, and among these was duelling. Every now and then, a duel was fought; but the ridicule which attended bloodless meetings, and the greater activity of the police in cases where harm was done, were diminishing them greatly; yet still, they did occasionally happen. A great stir was made by a violent quarrel among some officers of a regiment quartered in Lancashire, in which a challenge to fight a duel had been given and refused. It was called in the papers of the day, 'The Great Military Scandal,' and arose in the following manner. A certain Major Starley had offered a gross insult to a young lady, on whom, it appeared, he had been forcing his attentions for some time; and her only relative, a half-brother, was in the same regiment with the major. The details were not pleasant, and it was no wonder that Captain Laurenston challenged the major; but the latter declined the challenge on some professional grounds; and when the parties met, high words passed. These commenced, it appeared, with the captain; but each became violent in the dispute, until at last the captain thrashed his antagonist in the presence of several officers. This was not a make-believe beating; a 'consider-yourself-horsewhipped' affair, but a right-down 'welting,' the major being badly cut and bruised. This was serious enough, anyhow; but what made it worse was that the officers were on duty at the time; and by the strict letter of military law, the captain would certainly be punished with death.

He had expected, it seems, that after so public and such a painful humiliation, he would infallibly receive a challenge from the injured officer; but it was not so. He was placed in arrest in the barracks, and expected to be brought to a court-martial. He heard, however, from some friendly source that it was intended to hand him over to the civil power, when he would be charged with an assault with intent to kill.

In those days, almost anything was transportable, and as Major Starley belonged to one of the most influential families in the kingdom, there was no doubt that the captain would be sent to a convict settlement. There was also no doubt that the prosecution would be conducted in the most vindictive spirit and pushed to the bitterest end.

Terrified at such a prospect, the young officer escaped from the barracks, by connivance of the guard, there was reason to suppose, although this was never completely proved; at anyrate, he got clear away, and disappeared. Immediate advantage was taken of this fatal although very natural step, and a reward was at once offered for his apprehension. If he could get out of the country, he would be safe, as there were then no engagements for giving up criminals, so the ports were watched, an easier thing to do when there was not such a tremendous outflow of emigration as now.

Public sympathy was, naturally, strongly in favour of Captain Laurenston, and against the major, who would be compelled, it was generally said, to leave the service. But this would not save the captain from being cashiered, nor from fourteen years' transportation, as he was certain to be made an example of, if only for the purpose of showing that officers would be protected when they refused to accept a challenge.

I had taken an interest in all these details, as my mates had done, and, as with them, my sympathies were on the side of Captain Laurenston, yet only as a stranger, for I had never, to my knowledge, heard of him before. But after a while it began to be said that the captain was the officer who had been so long a visitor at Elm Knoll, and was the accepted suitor of Miss Cleabyrn. This gave me more interest in the affair, and I sincerely hoped he might make good his escape.

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