The Finger of Fate: A Romance

But before the end came, the plaintiff’s counsel begged leave to call a witness, one who had already stood upon the stand, but on the side of the defendant. Then, he had been a witness against his own will – having to give testimony that seemed favourable to the plaintiff’s opponent.

The witness was Mr Lawson, of the firm of Lawson and Son, solicitors, of Lincoln’s Inn. It was the senior partner, Mr Lawson himself, who was called. As he took his place in the box, there was a twinkle in the old lawyer’s eye; that, although comical, seemed to have meaning of mischief in it. The “twelve good men and true” could not guess at what it meant, though they understood it before the examining counsel had done with him.

“You say General Harding received another letter from Italy?” questioned the latter, after Lawson senior had kissed the Book, and been put through the usual preliminaries of examination.

“I do.”

“I don’t mean either of those already submitted to the jury. The letter I refer to is one written, not by his son, but by the bandit chief, Corvino. Did General Harding receive such a letter?”

“He did.”

“You can prove that?”

“I can prove it; from his having told me he did, and placed it in my hands for safe keeping.”

“When did this occur?”

“Shortly before the General’s death. In fact, on the same day he made the will.”

“Which will?”

“The one under which the plaintiff claims.”

“You mean that was the date when he placed the letter in your hands?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell when the General received it?”

“I can. The postmark will show that: as also whence it came.”

“Can you produce this letter?”

“It is here.”

The witness took an epistle out of his pocket, and handed it to the examining counsel; who, in turn, passed it up to the judge.

It was a dingy-looking document, blotched over with postmarks, stained by travel, and a good deal embrowned by being kept several years in the atmosphere of a London law-office.

“My Lord,” said the plaintiff’s counsel, “I have to request that that letter be read to the gentlemen of the jury.”

“Certainly, let it be read,” was the response of his Lordship.

It was read. It was the letter which the chief Corvino had addressed to the father of his captive, conveying the terrible threat and still more fearful enclosure.

The reading caused “sensation in the court.”

“Mr Lawson,” pursued the same questioner, after the excitement had a little subsided, “may I ask you to state to the jury what you know about the enclosure spoken of in this letter? Tell us all about it.”

“I shall tell you what General Harding told me. He said he received in it a finger, which was that of his son. He recognised it by a scar well known to him: it was the scar of a cut given him by his elder brother, when they were boys out shooting together.”

“Can you tell what became of that finger?”

“I can. It is here. General Harding placed it in my hands, along with the letter in which it had been enclosed.”

The witness then handed up the finger spoken of. It was a ghastly confirmation of his testimony, and produced a tremendous sensation in court; which continued, long after Mr Lawson had been noticed to leave the witness-box.

“My Lord!” called out the plaintiff’s counsel, “I have one more witness to examine, and then we shall be done. This is Mr Henry Harding.”

“The gentleman who so calls himself!” interposed one of the barristers who had been briefed by the party for the defence.

“And who will so prove himself!” confidently retorted the plaintiff’s counsel.

By consent of the judge, the claimant was put upon the stand, and became emphatically the cynosure of every eye in the crowded court.

He was elegantly, though not foppishly dressed, wearing upon his hands a pair of stout dogskin gloves.

“May I ask you, sir,” said his counsel, “to draw off your gloves? The left-hand one will be enough.”

The request was complied with, the witness making no other answer.

“Now, sir, have the goodness to hold out your hand, so that the jury may see it.”

The hand was stretched forth. It wanted the little finger!

Increased sensation in the court!

“My Lord, and gentlemen of the jury, you perceive there is a finger missing? It is here.”

As the counsel said this, he stepped towards the witness-box, holding the strange object in his hand. Then, quietly raising the hand of his client, he placed the missing finger in juxtaposition with the stump, from which it had long ago been so cruelly severed.

There could be no doubt about the correspondence. The white cartilaginous seam that indicated the scar, commencing upon the back of the hand, and running longitudinally, was continued to the finger’s tip. The jury could not help being convinced. The claimant was Henry Harding.

The sensation in court had now come to its climax; and so had the trial to its end.

The case of “Harding versus Harding” was by an unanimous verdict decided in plaintiff’s favour – defendant “to pay costs in the suit!”

Chapter Sixty Six

What Became of Them

Six months after the trial I received an invitation to spend a week at Beechwood Park, and take a share in its shootings.

Start not, reader! My host was not Nigel Harding, nor my hostess his wife, née Belle Mainwaring. The new master and mistress of the mansion were both better people, and both old acquaintances, whom I had encountered in the campo of the Parana. They were Henry Harding and his fair Italian sposa, now fully put in possession of their English estate.

I was not the only guest they were entertaining. The house was full of company, among whom were the ci-devantsindico of the Val di Orno, his son, and South American daughter-in-law.

If Henry Harding had lost one of his fingers, he had recovered all his old friends, and added a host of others, while Lucetta was surrounded by her own kindred.