Томас Майн Рид - Всадник без головы / The Headless Horseman

“Be it so!” he replied, turning livid with rage. “Well; since you think me so worthless, it won’t, I suppose, better your opinion of me, when I tell you what I’m going to do with you?”

“Do with me! You talk as if I were your slave! I’m not!”

Calhoun, cowering under the outburst of her indignation, remained silent.

“What is this threat? she continued, “what is to be my destiny? I’m impatient to have it declared.”

“Don’t be in a hurry. The first act shall be rehearsed tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day of trial. Mr Maurice Gerald will stand before the bar – accused of murdering your brother.”

“It is false! Maurice Gerald never—”

“Did the deed, you are going to say? Well, that remains to be proved. It will be; and from your own lips will come the words that’ll prove it – to the satisfaction of every man upon the jury.”

It was some seconds before she essayed to speak. Thoughts, conjectures, fears, fancies, and suspicions, all had to do in keeping her silent.

“I know not what you mean,” she at length rejoined. “You talk of my being called into court. For what purpose? Though I am the sister of him, who – I can tell no more than is in the mouth of everybody.”

“Yes can you; a great deal more.”

Calhoun told her everything he knew about her meeting with Maurice Gerald, his quarrel with Henry and their parting on the night of the murder.

She did not even show sign of being surprised. What was spoken already had prepared her for the revelation. Her rejoinder was a single word, pronounced in a tone of defiance. “Well!”

“Well!” echoed Calhoun, chagrined at the slight effect his speeches had produced. “You wish me to speak further?”

“As you please, sir.”

“I shall then. I say to you, Loo, there’s but one way to save your father from ruin – yourself from shame. You know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“You will not refuse me now?”

“Now more than ever!”

1) How many counselors did Maurice have? Who were they?

2) What subject did Calhoun want to discuss with the planter? Why did Woodley Poindexter avoid that subject?

3) Did Louise accept Calhoun’s proposal?

4) What was Calhoun going to do with Louise in case of her refusal?

Along with the first rays of the Aurora, horsemen may be seen approaching the military post from all quarters of the compass. There is a spectacle – at least there is one looked for. It is a trial long talked of in the Settlement.

It is not this which has brought so many settlers together; but a series of strange circumstances, mysterious and melodramatic; which seem in some way to be connected with the crime, and have been for days the sole talk of the Settlement.

All present at Fort Inge have come there anticipating: that the trial about to take place will throw light on the strange problem.

Of course there are some who, independent of this, have a feeling of interest in the fate of the prisoner. There are others inspired with a still sadder interest – friends and relatives of the man supposed to have been murdered.

Ten o’clock, and the Court is in session.

There is no court-house, [56]although there is a sort of public room used for this and other purposes. But the day promises to be hot, and the Court has decided to sit under a tree – a gigantic oak, extending its shadow afar over the green prairie.

A large deal table is placed underneath, with half a score of skin-bottomed chairs set around it. The judge, instead of a wig, wears his Panama hat. The remaining chairs are occupied by lawyers; the sheriff; the military commandant of the fort; the chaplain; the doctor; several officers; with one or two men of undeclared occupations.

A little apart are twelve individuals grouped together. It is the jury.

Around the Texan judge and jury there is a crowd that may well be called nondescript.

The glances are given to a group of three men, placed near the jury. One is seated, and two standing. The former is the prisoner Maurice Gerald; the latter the sheriff’s officers in charge of him.

There are but few present who have any personal acquaintance with the accused; though there are also but a few who have never before heard his name. Perhaps not any.

Some regard him with glances of simple curiosity; others with interrogation; but most with a look that speaks of anger and revenge.

There is one pair of eyes dwelling upon him with an expression altogether unlike the rest – a gaze soft, but steadfast – in which fear and fondness seem strangely mixed.

The trial begins.

“Gentlemen of the jury!” says the judge. “We are here assembled to try a case, the particulars of which are, I believe, known to all of you. A man has been murdered – the son of one of our most respected citizens; and the prisoner at the bar [57]is accused of having committed the crime.”

The prisoner is asked, according to the usual formality, – ”Guilty, or not guilty?”

“Not guilty,” is the reply; delivered in a firm, but modest tone.

The counsel for the State, after some introductory remarks, proceeds to introduce the witnesses for the prosecution.

First called is Franz Oberdoffer.

He is requested to state what he knows of the affair.

Oberdoffer’s evidence coincides with the tale already told by him and on the whole is unfavourable to the accused; especially the circumstance of Gerald’s having changed his intention as to his time of starting.

But why should Henry Poindexter have been following after Gerald in such hot haste, and at such an unusual hour?

Had the order been reversed, and Gerald inquiring about and going after him, the case would have been clearer. But even then there would have been an absence of motive. Who can show this, to satisfy the jury?

Captain Cassius Calhoun is called up.

After declaring his reluctance to make the exposure, he ends by telling all: the scene in the garden; the quarrel; the departure of Gerald, which he describes as having been accompanied by a threat; his being followed by Henry; everything but the true motive for this following, and his own course of action throughout. These two facts he keeps carefully to himself.

The scandalous revelation causes a universal surprise – alike shared by judge, jury, and spectators.

A groan had been heard as the terrible testimony proceeded. It came from Woodley Poindexter.

But the eyes of the spectators dwell not on him. They look beyond, to a curtained carriage, in which is seen seated a lady: so fair, as long before to have fixed their attention.

The crier’s [58]voice pronounces the name—

“Louise Poindexter!”

Calhoun has kept his word.

Conducted by an officer of the Court, Louise takes her stand on the spot set apart for the witnesses.

Without fear she faces towards the Court.

Miss Poindexter tells the Court about the meeting in the garden that she had on the night when her brother was last seen.

“It is a delicate question, Miss Poindexter; you will pardon me for putting it – in the execution of my duty – What was the nature – the object I should rather term it – of this appointment?”

The question is put by the State counsel.

Casting a careless glance upon the faces around her, the witness replies—

“I have no intention to conceal the motive. I went into the garden to meet the man I loved – whom I still love, though he stands before you an accused criminal! Now, sir, I hope you are satisfied?”

“Not quite,” continues the prosecuting counsel, [59]“I must ask you another question, Miss Poindexter. You have heard what has been said by the witness who preceded you. Is it true that your brother parted in anger with the prisoner at the bar?”