"Sir!"
A warder made a gesture, as if to assist her.
"It's all right now," said Mrs. Underwood to the warder. "Yes, it is he, Mr. Griffiths." She spoke very distantly and sadly as if she remembered a dream of which Jherek had been part.
"We can leave here and return very soon!" Jherek assured her. "Lord Jagged is here. He must have a time machine. We can all go back in it."
"I cannot go back, Mr. Carnelian." She spoke in a low voice, in the same remote tone. "And until I saw you a moment ago I did not quite believe I had ever been there. How did you get here?"
"I followed you. In a time machine supplied by Brannart Morphail. I knew that you loved me."
"Love? Ah…" She sighed.
"And you still love me, I can tell."
"No!" She was shocked. "I am married. I am…" She recovered herself. "I did not come for this, Mr. Carnelian. I came to see if it really were you and, if so, to plead for your life. I know that you would do nothing as wicked as take part in a murder — or even a robbery. I am sure you were duped. You were ever naïve in some ways. Mr. Griffiths wants me to tell a lie to the court which, he thinks, might save your life."
"A lie?"
"He wants me to say that I have known you for some time and that you always displayed idiotic tendencies."
"Must you say that? Why not tell them the truth?"
"They will not believe the truth. No one would!"
"I have noticed that they tend to ignore me when I tell them the truth and listen only when I repeat back to them what they have told me is the truth."
Now Mr. Griffiths was looking from Jherek to Mrs. Amelia Underwood and back again and there was a miserable, haunted look on his face. "You mean you both believe this wild nonsense about the future?"
"It is not nonsense, Mr. Griffiths," said Mrs. Amelia Underwood firmly. "But, on the other hand, I do not ask you to believe it. The important thing is to save Mr. Carnelian's life — even if it means going against all my principles and uttering a perjury to the Court. It seems the only way, in this instance, to stop an injustice taking place!"
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Griffiths desperately. "So you will go into the witness box and tell the jury that Mr. — Carnelian — is mad. That is all I shall require."
"Yes," she whispered.
"You do love me," said Jherek, also speaking softly. "I can see it in your eyes, Mrs. Underwood."
She looked at him once, a look of longing, of agony. An imploring look. And then she turned and had left the cell.
"She does love me!" Jherek skipped around the cell. Mr. Griffiths watched him skip. Mr. Griffiths seemed tired. He had an air of fatalism about him as he, too, left the cell and Jherek began to sing at the top of his voice. "All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small. All things wise and wonderful…"
After lunch everyone assumed their places again and the first person to appear was Mrs. Amelia Underwood, looking even more strained than ever, in the role of Witness for the Defence.
Mr. Griffiths asked her if she had known Jherek before. She said she had met him when travelling with her missionary father in South America, that he had caused her some embarrassment but that he was "harmless".
"An idiot, would you say, Mrs. Underwood?"
"Yes," murmured Mrs. Underwood, "an idiot."
"Something of — um — an innocent, eh?"
"An innocent," she agreed in the same voice. "Yes."
"Did he show any violent tendencies?"
"None. I do not believe he knows what violence is."
"Very good. And crime? Would you say he had any notion of crime?"
"None."
"Excellent." Mr. Griffiths turned towards the twelve men who were all leaning forward, concentrating on the exchange. "I think, members of the jury that this lady — the daughter of a missionary — has successfully proved to you that not only did the defendant not know he was being involved in a crime by the deceased Alfred Vine but that he was incapable knowingly of committing any crime. He came to England to seek out the woman who had been kind to him in his own country — in the Argentine, as Mrs. Underwood has told you. He was duped by unscrupulous rogues into aiding them in a theft. Knowing nothing of our customs…"
Lord Jagger leaned forward. "I think we can save all this for the summing up, Mr. Griffiths."
Mr. Griffiths bowed his head. "Very well, m'lud. I apologise."
And now it was Sir George Freeman's turn to question Mrs. Underwood. He had small beady eyes, a red nose and an aggressive manner. He asked Mrs. Underwood for particulars of where and when she had met Mr. Carnelian. He produced arguments and evidence to show that no ship had docked in London from the Argentine on the date mentioned. He suggested that Mrs. Underwood had misguidedly felt sorry for Mr. Carnelian and had come forward to give evidence which was untrue in order to save him. Was she one of those who objected to capital punishment? He could understand that many good Christians were. He did not suggest that she was appearing in the witness box from anything but the best — if most misguided — of motives. And so on and so on until Mrs. Underwood burst into tears and Jherek tried to climb out of his own box and go to her.
"Mrs. Underwood!" he cried. "Just tell them what really happened. Lord Jagged will understand! He will tell them that you are speaking the truth!"
And then everyone seemed to be springing up at once and there was a loud babble of voices and the rapping of a hammer against wood and a man crying loudly:
"Silence in court! Silence in court!"
"I shall have to have the court cleared in the event of a further demonstration of this kind," said Lord Jagger drily.
"But she is only lying because these people will not believe the truth!" cried Jherek.
"Silence!"
Jherek looked wildly around him. "They said that you would not believe the truth — that we met a million years in the future, that I followed her back here because I loved her — still do love her…"
Lord Jagger ignored Jherek and instead leaned towards the men in the false hair below him. "This witness may leave the box," he said. "She seems to be in distress. Do you have any further questions, gentlemen?"
Mr. Griffiths shook his head in silent despair. Sir George Freeman seemed quietly pleased and also shook his head.
Jherek watched Mrs. Underwood being led from the box. He saw her disappear and he had a terrible feeling that he would never see her again. He looked appealingly at Lord Jagger.
"Why did you let them make her cry, Jagged?"
"Silence!"
"I think I have successfully proven, m'lud, that the only witness for the defence was lying," said Sir George Freeman.
"Have you anything to say to that, Mr Griffiths?" Lord Jagger asked.
Mr. Griffiths had lowered his head. "No, m'lud." He turned and looked at Jherek, who was still agitated. "Though I believe we have had ample proof of the defendant's unbalanced mental state today."
"We shall decide on that later," said Lord Jagger. "And it is not, I should like to remind the jury, the defendant's mental condition today which is being examined. We are trying to discover whether he was mad on the morning of the murder."
"Lord Jagged!" cried Jherek. "I beg you. Finish this thing now. The charade might have been amusing to begin with, but it has caused Mrs. Underwood genuine grief. Perhaps you do not understand how these people feel — but I do — I have experienced quite awful emotions and states of mind myself since I have been here."
"Silence!"
"Lord Jagged!"
"Silence!"
"You will be able to speak in your own defence later, if you wish," said Lord Jagger, without a flicker of humour, without a single sign of recognition. And Jherek at last began to doubt that this was his friend on the bench. Yet the face, the mannerisms, the voice were all the same — and the name was almost the same. It could not be a coincidence.
And then the thought occurred to him that Lord Jagged was taking some malicious pleasure in t
he proceedings — that he was not Jherek's friend at all. That he had engineered this entire fiasco from start to finish.
The rest of the trial seemed to take place in a flash. And when Lord Jagged asked Jherek if he wished to speak, he merely shook his head. He was too depressed to make any reaction, to try to convince them of the truth. He began to believe that, possibly, he was, indeed, quite mad.
But the thought almost made Jherek dizzy. It could not be! It could not be!
And then Lord Jagger made a short speech to the jury and they all left the court again. Jherek was taken back to his cell and was joined by Mr. Griffiths.
"It looks grim," said Mr. Griffiths. "You should have kept quiet, you know. Now they all think it was an elaborate trick to get you off. This could ruin me."
He took something from his case and handed it to Jherek. "Your friend, Mrs. Underwood, asked me to give you this."
Jherek took the paper. He looked at the marks on it and then handed it back to Mr. Griffiths. "You had better read it."
Mr. Griffiths squinted at the paper. He blushed. He coughed. "It's rather personal."
"Please read it," said Jherek.
"Well, here goes — ahem — 'I blame myself for what has happened. I know they will put you in prison for a long time, if they do not hang you. I fear that you have little hope now of acquittal and so I must tell you, Jherek, that I do love you, that I miss you, that I shall always remember you.' Hmph. It's unsigned. Very wise. Most indiscreet to write it at all."
Jherek was smiling again. "I knew she loved me. I'll think of a way to rescue her, even if Lord Jagged will not help me."
"My dear boy," said Mr. Griffiths solemnly, "you must try to remember the seriousness of your position. It is very much on the cards that they will sentence you to be hanged."
"Yes?" said Jherek. "By the way, Mr. Griffiths, what's involved in this 'hanging,' can you tell me?"
And Mr. Griffiths sighed, got up and left the cell without a further word.
Jherek was escorted back to his box for the third time. As he mounted the steps he saw Lord Jagger and the others taking their places.
The twelve men came in and resumed their seats.
An oppressive silence now hung over the room.
One of the men in false hair began to read from a list of names and every time he read a name one of the twelve would answer "Aye," until all twelve names had been read.
Then the man next to him got up and addressed the twelve. "Gentlemen of the Jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?"
One of the twelve answered, "Yes."
"Do you find the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?"
For a moment all twelve turned their eyes on Jherek whose attention was scarcely on the ritual at all.
"Guilty."
Jherek was startled as the hands of two warders fell simultaneously upon his shoulders. He looked at each of their faces curiously.
Lord Jagger looked steadily into Jherek's eyes.
"Have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed upon you?"
Jherek said wearily: "Jagged, I am tired of this farce. Let us take Mrs. Amelia Underwood and go home."
"I gather you have nothing to say," said Lord Jagger, ignoring Jherek's suggestion.
One of the men near Lord Jagger handed Lord Jagger a square of black cloth which he placed carefully on top of his white false hair. Reverend Lowndes appeared beside Lord Jagger. He was wearing a long black gown. He looked much sadder than usual.
"You have been found guilty of causing the cruel murder of an innocent employee of the hotel you sought to rob," droned Lord Jagger, and for the first time Jherek thought he saw the light of humour in his friend's eyes. It was a joke after all. He smiled back. "And therefore I must sentence you —"
"Ha! Ha!" shouted Jherek. "It is you, Jagged!"
"Silence!" cried someone.
Lord Jagger's voice continued through the confusion, the faint murmur of voices in the court, until it concluded "And may the Lord have mercy on your soul."
And Reverend Lowndes said:
"Amen!"
And the warders tugged at Jherek to make him leave.
"I will see you later, Jagged!" he called.
But again Jagger ignored him, turning his back as he rose from his seat and muttering something to the Reverend Lowndes who nodded mournfully.
"No threats. They won't do any good," said one of the warders. "Come on, son."
Jherek laughed as he let them lead him back to his cell. "Really. I'm losing my sense of humour — my sense of drama. It must have been that terrible time in Jones's Kitchen. I will apologise to Jagged as soon as I meet him again!"
"You won't be meeting him," said the warder with a jerk of his thumb backward, "until he joins you down there!" And he pointed at the ground.
"Is that where you think the future lies?" asked Jherek with genuine curiosity.
But they said nothing more to him and in a moment he was alone in his cell fingering the note which Mrs. Amelia Underwood had sent him, wishing he could read it, but remembering every word. She loved him. She had said so! He had never experienced such happiness before.
After he had been taken to yet another prison in another black carriage, Jherek found that he was being treated with even more kindness than before. The warders who had spoken to him previously with a sort of good humour now spoke with sympathy and often patted him on the shoulder. Only on the matter of his release did they preserve a silence. One or two would tell him that they thought "he ought to have got off" and that "it wasn't fair," but he was never able to interpret the significance of their remarks. He saw Reverend Lowndes quite frequently and was able to make him happy enough. Sometimes they sang one or two hymns together and Jherek was reminded with greater clarity that he would soon be seeing Mrs. Amelia Underwood again and singing those same hymns with her. He asked Reverend Lowndes if he had heard anything of Mrs. Underwood, but Reverend Lowndes had not.
"She risked much to speak in your defence," said Reverend Lowndes one day. "It was in all the newspapers. It is possible that she has compromised herself. I understand that she is a married woman."
"I understand that," agreed Jherek. "But I suppose she is waiting for me to arrange our transport back to my own time."
"Yes, yes," said Reverend Lowndes sadly.
"I would have thought that Lord Jagged would have contacted me by now, but perhaps his own time machine is in need of repair," Jherek mused.
"Yes, yes, yes." Reverend Lowndes opened his black book and began to read, his lips moving. Then he closed the book and looked up. "It is tomorrow morning, you know."
"Oh? You have heard from Lord Jagged?"
"Lord Jagger passed the sentence, if that is what you mean. He named the day as tomorrow. I am glad you are so composed."
"Why should I not be? That is splendid news."
"I am sure that the Lord knows how best to judge you." Reverend Lowndes raised his grey eyes towards the roof. "You have no need to fear."
"None at all. Although the ride might be a rough one."
"Yes indeed. I understand your meaning."
"Ah!" Jherek leaned back on his bunk. "I am looking forward to seeing all my friends again."
"I am sure they will all be there." Reverend Lowndes got up. "I will come early tomorrow morning. If you find it hard to sleep, the warders will join you in your cell."
"I shall sleep very well, I'm sure. So my release is due around dawn?"
"At eight o'clock."
"Thank you for the news, Reverend Lowndes."
Reverend Lowndes's eyes seemed to be watering, but he could not be crying, for there was a smile on his face. "You do now know what this means to me, Mr. Carnelian."
"I am only too pleased to be able to cheer you up, Reverend Lowndes."
"Thank you. Thank you." The Reverend left the cell.
Next morning Jherek was given a rather heavy breakfast, which he ate with some difficulty so as not to offend the warders
, who plainly thought they had brought him a special treat. All of them looked sad, however, and kept shaking their heads.
The Reverend Lowndes turned up early, as he had said he would.
"Are you ready?" he asked Jherek.
"More than ready," Jherek replied cheerfully.
"Would you like to join me in a prayer?"
"If that is what you want, of course." Jherek kneeled down with Reverend Lowndes as he had often knelt before and repeated the words which Reverend Lowndes spoke. This time the prayer seemed to go on for longer than usual and Reverend Lowndes's voice kept breaking. Jherek waited patiently every time this happened. After all, what did a few minutes mean when he would soon be reunited with the woman he loved (not to mention his dearest friend)?
And then they left the cell, with a warder on either side, and walked out into an unfamiliar forecourt which was surrounded on all sides by high blank walls. There was a sort of wooden dais erected in the forecourt and above this a tall beam supporting another horizontal beam. From the horizontal beam depended a thick rope with a loop at the bottom end. Another man, in stout black clothes, stood on the dais. Steps led up to it on one side. There was also a lever, near the man in black. Several other people were already in the forecourt. They, too, looked sad. Doubtless they had grown to like Jherek (even though he could not remember having seen several of them before) and did not want him to leave their time.
"Is that the machine?" Jherek asked Reverend Lowndes. He had never expected to see a wooden time machine, but he supposed that they used wood for a lot of things in the Dawn Age cultures.
Silently, Reverend Lowndes nodded.
"I go up these steps, do I?"
"You do."
Reverend Lowndes accompanied Jherek as he climbed the steps. The man in black drew Jherek's hands behind him and tied them securely.
"I suppose this is necessary?" Jherek remarked to the man in black, who had said nothing up to now. "I had a rubber suit last time."
The man in black did not reply but turned to Reverend Lowndes instead. "He's a cool one. It's usually the foreigners scream and kick."
Reverend Lowndes did not reply. He watched the man in black tie Jherek's feet.