The Beckoning Hand and Other Stories - The Original Classic Edition. Allen Grant

Mu-seum, valued at a hundred and seventy-five pounds sterling."

       The policeman laid his hand upon my wrist. "You will have to go along with me to the station, sir," he said quietly.

       Terrified and stunned as I was by the awfulness of the accusation, I could not forget or overlook the superintendent's evident reluctance and kindness. "Mr. Harbourne," I cried, "you have tried to do your best for me. I am grateful to you for it, in spite of your terrible mistake, and I shall yet be able to show you that I am innocent."

       He shook his head gloomily. "I have done my duty," he said with a shudder. "I have never before had a more painful one. Policeman, I must ask you now to do yours."[Pg 85]

       III.

       The police are always considerate to respectable-looking prisoners, and I had no difficulty in getting the sergeant in charge of the

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       lock-up to telegraph for me to Emily, to say that I was detained by important business, which would prevent me taking her and her mother to the theatre that evening. But when I explained to him that my detention was merely temporary, and that I should be able to disprove the whole story as soon as I went before the magistrates, he winked most unpleasantly at the constable who had brought me in, and observed in a tone of vulgar sarcasm, "We have a good many gentlemen here who says the same, sir--don't we, Jim? but they don't always find it so easy as they expected when they stands up afore the beak to prove their statements."

       I began to reflect that even a temporary prison is far from being a pleasant place for a man to stop in.

       Next morning they took me up before the magistrate; and as the Museum authorities of course proved a prima facie case against me, and as my solicitor advised me to reserve my defence, owing to the difficulty of getting up my witness from Lichfield in reasonable time, I was duly committed for trial at the next sessions of the Central Criminal Court.

       I had often read before that people had been committed for trial, but till that moment I had no idea what a very unpleasant sensation it really is.

       However, as I was a person of hitherto unblemished character, and wore a good coat made by a fashionable tailor, the magistrate decided to admit me to bail, if two sureties in five hundred pounds each were promptly forthcoming for the purpose. Luckily, I had no difficulty in finding friends who believed in my story; and as I felt sure the lost Wulfric would soon be found in cleaning[Pg 86] the museum, I suffered perhaps a little less acutely than I might otherwise have done, owing to my profound confidence in the final triumph of the truth.

       Nevertheless, as the case would be fully reported next morning in all the papers, I saw at once that I must go straight off and explain the matter without delay to Emily.

       I will not dwell upon that painful interview. I will only say that Emily behaved as I of course knew she would behave. She was horrified and indignant at the dreadful accusation; and, woman like, she was very angry with the superintendent. "He ought to have taken your word for it, naturally, Harold," she cried through her tears. "But what a good thing, anyhow, that you happened to show the coin to me. I should recognize it anywhere among ten thousand."

       "That's well, darling," I said, trying to kiss away her tears and cheer her up a little. "I haven't the slightest doubt that when the trial

       comes we shall be able triumphantly to vindicate me from this terrible, groundless accusation." IV.

       When the trial did actually come on, the Museum authorities began by proving their case against me in what seemed the most horribly damning fashion. The superintendent proved that on such and such a day, in such and such a case, he had seen a gold coin of Wulfric of Mercia, the property of the Museum. He and Mactavish detailed the circumstances under which the coin was lost. The superintendent explained how he had asked me to submit to a search, and how, to avoid that indignity, I had myself produced from my waistcoat-pocket a gold coin of Wulfric of Mercia, which I asserted to be a duplicate specimen, and my own property. The[Pg

       87] counsel for the Crown proceeded thus with the examination:-- "Do you recognize the coin I now hand you?"

       "I do." "What is it?"

       "The unique gold coin of Wulfric of Mercia, belonging to the Museum." "You have absolutely no doubt as to its identity?"

       "Absolutely none whatsoever."

       "Does it differ in any respect from the same coin as you previously saw it?"

       "Yes. It has been clipped round the edge with a sharp instrument, and a slight dent has been made by pressure on the obverse side, just below the W of Wulfric."

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       "Did you suspect the prisoner at the bar of having mutilated it?"

       "I did, and I asked him whether he had a knife in his possession. He answered no. I then asked him whether he would submit to be searched for a knife. He consented, and on my looking in his pocket I found the pair of nail-scissors I now produce, with a small file on either side."

       "Do you believe the coin might have been clipped with those scissors?"

       "I do. The gold is very soft, having little alloy in its composition; and it could easily be cut by a strong-wristed man with a knife or scissors."

       As I listened, I didn't wonder that the jury looked as if they already considered me guilty: but I smiled to myself when I thought how utterly Emily's and the ploughman's evidence would rebut this unworthy suspicion.

       The next witness was the Museum cleaner. His evidence at first produced nothing fresh, but just at last, counsel set before him a

       paper, containing a few scraps of yellow metal, and asked him triumphantly whether he recognized them. He answered yes.[Pg 88] There was a profound silence. The court was interested and curious. I couldn't quite understand it all, but I felt a terrible sinking. "What are they?" asked the hostile barrister.

       "They are some fragments of gold which I found in shaking the cocoa-nut matting on the floor of gallery 27 the Saturday after the

       attempted theft."

       I felt as if a mine had unexpectedly been sprung beneath me. How on earth those fragments of soft gold could ever have got there I

       couldn't imagine; but I saw the damaging nature of this extraordinary and inexplicable coincidence in half a second.

       My counsel cross-examined all the witnesses for the prosecution, but failed to elicit anything of any value from any one of them. On the contrary, his questions put to the metallurgist of the Mint, who was called to prove the quality of the gold, only brought out a very strong opinion to the effect that the clippings were essentially similar in character to the metal composing the clipped Wulfric.

       No wonder the jury seemed to think the case was going decidedly against me.

       Then my counsel called his witnesses. I listened in the profoundest suspense and expectation.

       The first witness was the ploughman from Lichfield. He was a well-meaning but very puzzle-headed old man, and he was evidently

       frightened at being confronted by so many clever wig-wearing barristers.

       Nevertheless, my counsel managed to get the true story out of him at last with infinite patience, dexterity, and skill. The old man told us finally how he had found the coins and sold them to me for five pounds; and how one of them was of gold, with a queer head

       and goggle eyes pointed full face upon its surface.

       When he had finished, the counsel for the Crown began his cross-examination. He handed the ploughman a gold[Pg 89] coin. "Did

       you ever see that before?" he asked quietly.

       "To be sure I did," the man answered, looking at it open-mouthed. "What is it?"

       "It's the bit I sold Mr. Tait there--the bit as I got out o' the old basin."

       Counsel turned triumphantly to the judge. "My lord," he said, "this thing to which the witness swears is a gold piece of Ethelwulf of

       Wessex, by far the commonest and cheapest gold coin of the whole Anglo-Saxon period."

       It was handed to the jury side by side