University of Virginia Library

36. CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE “QUEEN'S EVIDENCE.”

It is not necessary to impute any peculiar inhumanity to the
“attorney-general,” to account for the seeming ferocity with
which he pursued his prey on this and similar occasions. He
had been incited in this case to extra exertions, by the very force
of the opposition which he had encountered, until he had come to
regard the issue as a matter deeply affecting his reputation as a
barrister and as a legal tactician.

He must triumph by some means, and in doing so, he doubted
not to serve the government and the ends of justice; and as for
the accused, tortured by the harrowing suspense of that long
night of doubt, no thought of commiseration for him interfered
with the plans of the learned man and his zealous agents.

Most active among his employees was the repudiated Shay,
who was incited to strenuous exertion by the fear of losing the
coveted reward, which had been unofficially promised him for the
capture of the prisoner, and which now threatened to elude his
grasp, from the want of sufficient evidence to insure a conviction.
He obtained access to many of the prisoners who had been
privates in the invading army, in the hope of finding some
craven who could fully identify Vrail as a fellow-soldier, and
who would be willing to appear against him. It is sad to say,
that after many indignant refusals, he found a man ready to
listen to his proposals, he being the same individual who had

pusillanimously led the way in laying down arms, and asking
quarter, in Col. Allen's division of the army, and who had been
trembling ever since with the direful apprehension of his coming
fate.

He unfortunately knew Vrail well, and in order to substantiate
his own credibility, he undertook to describe the accused in court,
if desired, before seeing him. He knew, also, that he was addressed
as lieutenant by the other officers of the army, and that
he was on the most intimate terms, both with his own commanding
officer, and with Col. Van Shoultz, the leader of the expedition.
To this latter point there was also other testimony, which
the prosecutor had withheld until the main charge was proven,
and when Gale came into court on the ensuing day, it was with
a confident and blustering air, which alarmed the friends of the
prisoner, and gave them sad forebodings as to the result of the
night's researches.

Alas! their worst apprehensions were destined to a sad realization.
The recreant soldier testified in the clearest and most
positive manner to Vrail's presence and active participation in the
battle at Windmill Point, and no legal ingenuity, on the cross-examination,
could make him gainsay or controvert his position.

Point by point, through long and weary hours, the hopeless
contest was maintained by the prisoner's counsel, until every
question of law was decided by a predetermined court against
them, and until the main question of fact was considered legally
proven by the prosecutor, and was so announced by his ally on the
bench, in his charge to an obedient and loyal jury.

No gleam of hope illumined the countenance of Counsellor
Strong, when the jury, who had listened apathetically to his most
eloquent and fervent harangue, retired to deliberate upon the
verdict; and the despairing Gertrude, who had occupied through
the day her first position in the court-room, saw plainly, and with
an agony no language can express, the look of dismay which had

gradually settled upon the faces of her legal friends. At Harry
Vrail she dared not look, but if she had done so, she would have
seen but little evidence of the anguish he was enduring, for,
amidst it all, the habitual serenity of his features remained nearly
undisturbed. The young and vigorous cannot easily divest themselves
of that strong love of life which is ever incident to human
nature, even in decrepitude and misery, but the experiences of the
past few days, and the hopes which they had revived, had given
a new charm to existence in the mind of the unfortunate prisoner.

The sight of Gertrude, and the knowledge of her extraordinary
exertions in his behalf, had awakened a thousand agitating surmises
as to the real nature of her regard for him. Had he been
mistaken in supposing her indifferent to him, and was there something
more than friendship and woman's pity influencing her
present conduct, the sacrifices of which he computed far less by
expended toil and treasure, than by the wounds to which it must
expose a delicate and sensitive nature?

These hopes, though slight and unpresumptuous, had taken
shape in his mind, and with them were mingling the bright anticipations
of restoration to freedom and home, when the changed
aspect of the evidence against him compelled him to contemplate
another future, alas! how appallingly different.

No sooner had the jury retired than Mr. Strong, who well knew
that their absence would not be protracted, hastened to join Miss
Van Kleeck, and advised her to withdraw to her hotel, where he
promised to transmit to her the earliest intelligence of the result
of the trial.

“Is there any hope?” asked Gertrude, faintly.

“You had better prepare your mind for the worst, Miss Van
Kleeck,” said the lawyer, sorrowfully, and with these words sounding
like a knell in her ears, Gertrude, leaning heavily upon the
arm of her cousin, Van Vrank, passed out of the court-room. A
carriage was summoned to convey them to their hotel, and there,

in an agony of dread, she awaited the terrible tidings, which were
soon brought by the humane lawyer himself, for he dared to trust
no messenger with the news, to be, perhaps, abruptly and harshly
disclosed.

“It is all over!” she exclaimed, trembling violently, and speaking
with choked and indistinct utterance, as Mr. Strong entered
her apartment. “It is all over. I see it in your face. You
have come to tell me that he is found guilty.”

The strong man bent his head in silence.

“But they have recommended him to mercy? You said they
could do this. Oh! tell me that it is so.”

A dreary negative was indicated by a gesture.

“Oh, merciful heaven! Is there, then, no help for us?”

“The governor, Sir George Arthur,” replied Strong, speaking
with hesitation, “has the power to suspend the sentence, or its
execution, if he thinks there is good cause, until a petition can be
forwarded to the queen, and an answer received.”

“But will he do it?” cried Gertrude, frantically. “Alas! I
have heard that he listens to no such petitions—that he will not
even read them.”

“If the jury had tempered their verdict with the slightest qualification,”
replied Strong, whose whole air and manner were expressive
of hopelessness, “if it had contained any suggestion of
mercy, however slight, our case would have been less perplexing.
But we can try. I will at once write a brief history of the case,
to be signed by myself and my fellow-counsel, together with a
petition, and I will forward them to Toronto to-morrow.”

“You will forward them, do you say? No! You must go with
them yourself, and so will I—and oh, if Ruth were but at liberty!”

“She will be released at once, as the trial is at an end, and
there is no longer a pretence for her confinement as a witness.
My clerk shall procure her discharge, while I am engaged on the
petition.”

Gertrude would have made an exclamation of delight, if her
oppressed heart could have given utterance to joy, for the prospect
of a reunion with Ruth, and of her companionship and assistance
in her new undertaking, added something to her faint hope of
success, and detracted something from her sense of desolation and
wretchedness.

She had found time very soon after her heroic young friend's
incarceration, to send a messenger to her with words of encouragement,
and also to provide as abundantly for her comfort as
her position would admit; nor had the faithful negro been
neglected in these gentle ministrations of Gertrude. Both were
set at liberty before evening; and Ruth, terrified by the tidings of
the sad event to which she owed her release, hastened to mingle
her tears with those of the wretched Gertrude, and to devise with
her (alas! less sanguinely now) new efforts for arresting the
dreadful doom of their friend.

Indefatigable in his labors, although so nearly hopeless of any
favorable result, the lawyer was occupied with his colleagues
until a late hour at night, in making the statement and petition
which he designed to present to the executive officer of the province,
and on the next day he succeeded in procuring the signatures
of a few prominent citizens of Kingston, whose sympathies
had been awakened for the prisoner. There was no time to be
lost, for despite his most vigorous effort for a postponement of the
sentence, it was pronounced on the morning after the trial, and
left but a week's interval before the day of execution. These
facts he vainly strove to conceal from Gertrude, who insisted on
knowing the worst, and who braced her gentle spirit to the shock
by the most resolute determination not to let despair paralyze her
energies at so important a crisis.

Her courage and perseverance, and the impetuous ardor of
Ruth, induced the lawyer to hope that their personal intercession
might possibly be of some avail with the governor, and he was

determined, at least, to afford them every facility in his power in
the furtherance of their merciful errand. He took passage with
them for Toronto on the afternoon of Friday, the day on which
Vrail received his sentence, leaving Garret and the negro to await
their return to Kingston, the former being enjoined by Gertrude
to visit Harry daily, and keep him informed of all the efforts
which were being made in his behalf, and also to write at once to
his brother at Ogdensburgh, and impart to him the dreadful intelligence
of the result of the trial. Brom, who by no means felt
sure of retaining his new liberty, and who was unable to divest
himself of apprehension while on British soil, would gladly have
returned to his native shores, but for his extreme solicitude for his
young master, whom, although he could not aid he would not
desert. He accompanied Van Vrank daily to the prison, where,
at a certain hour, they were permitted to see and converse with
the unfortunate man, through the bars of his cell.