CHAPTER XVII.
THE TRIAL.
In spite of the utmost vigilance on the part of the police, and the offer of a large reward, both by Calton, on behalf of the accused, and by Mr. Frettlby, the much-desired Sal Rawlins still remained hidden.
The millionaire had maintained a most friendly attitude towards Brian throughout the whole affair.
He refused to believe him guilty, and when Calton told him of the defence of proving an ALIBI by means of Sal Rawlins, he immediately offered a large reward, which was in itself enough to set every person with any time on their hands hunting for the missing witness.
All Australia and New Zealand rang with the extremely plebeian name of Sal Rawlins, the papers being full of notices offering rewards; and handbills of staring red letters were posted up in all railway stations, in conjunction with "Liquid Sunshine" Rum and "D.W.D." Whisky.
She had become famous without knowing it, unless, indeed, she had kept herself concealed purposely, but this was hardly probable, as there was no apparent motive for her doing so.
If she was above ground she must certainly have seen the handbills, if not the papers; and though not able to read, she could hardly help hearing something about the one topic of conversation throughout Australia.
Notwithstanding all this, Sal Rawlins was still undiscovered, and Calton, in despair, began to think that she must be dead.
But Madge, though at times her courage gave way, was still hopeful.
"God will not permit such a judicial crime as the murder of an innocent man to be committed," she declared.
Mr. Calton, to whom she said this, shook his head doubtfully.
"God has permitted it to take place before," he answered softly; "and we can only judge the future by the past."
At last, the day of the long-expected trial came, and as Calton sat in his office looking over his brief, a clerk entered and told him Mr. Frettlby and his daughter wished to see him.
When they came in, the barrister saw that the millionaire looked haggard and ill, and there was a worried expression on his face.
"There is my daughter, Calton," he said, after hurried greetings had been exchanged. "She wants to be present in Court during Fitzgerald's trial, and nothing I can say will dissuade her."
Calton turned, and looked at the girl in some surprise.
"Yes," she answered, meeting his look steadily, though her face was very pale; "I must be there.
I shall go mad with anxiety unless I know how the trial goes on."
"But think of the disagreeable amount of attention you will attract," urged the lawyer.
"No one will recognise me," she said calmly, "I am very plainly dressed, and I will wear this veil;" and, drawing one from her pocket, she went to a small looking-glass which was hanging on the wall, and tied it over her face.
Calton looked in perplexity at Mr. Frettlby.
"I'm afraid you must consent," he said.
"Very well," replied the other, almost sternly, while a look of annoyance passed over his face. "I shall leave her in your charge."
"And you?"
"I'm not coming," answered Frettlby, quickly, putting on his hat. "I don't care about seeing a man whom I have had at my dinner-table, in the prisoner's dock, much as I sympathise with him.
Good-day;" and with a curt nod he took his leave.
When the door closed on her father, Madge placed her hand on Calton's arm.
"Any hope?" she whispered, looking at him through the black veil.
"The merest chance," answered Calton, putting his brief into his bag. "We have done everything in our power to discover this girl, but without result.
If she does not come at the eleventh hour I'm afraid Brian Fitzgerald is a doomed man."
Madge fell on her knees, with a stifled cry.
"Oh, God of Mercy," she cried, raising her hands as if in prayer, "save him.
Save my darling, and let him not die for the crime of another. God—"
She dropped her face in her hands and wept convulsively, as the lawyer touched her lightly on the shoulder.
"Come!" he said kindly. "Be the brave girl you were, and we may save him yet.
The hour is darkest before the dawn, you know."
Madge dried her tears, and followed the lawyer to the cab, which was waiting for them at the door.
They drove quickly up to the Court, and Calton put her in a quiet place, where she could see the dock, and yet be unobserved by the people in the body of the Court.
Just as he was leaving her she touched his arm.
"Tell him," she whispered, in a trembling voice, "tell him I am here."
Calton nodded, and hurried away to put on his wig and gown, while Madge looked hurriedly round the Court from her point of vantage.
It was crowded with fashionable Melbourne of both sexes, and they were all talking together in subdued whispers.
The popular character of the prisoner, his good looks, and engagement to Madge Frettlby, together with the extraordinary circumstances of the case, had raised public curiosity to the highest pitch, and, consequently, everybody who could possibly manage to gain admission was there.
Felix Rolleston had secured an excellent seat beside the pretty Miss Featherweight, whom he admired so much, and he was chattering to her with the utmost volubility.
"Puts me in mind of the Coliseum and all that sort of thing, you know," he said, putting up his eye-glass and starting round. "Butchered to make a Roman holiday by jove."
"Don't say such horrid things, you frivolous creature," simpered Miss Featherweight, using her smelling-bottle. "We are all here out of sympathy for that poor dear Mr. Fitzgerald."
The mercurial Felix, who had more cleverness in him than people gave him credit for, smiled outright at this eminently feminine way of covering an overpowering curiosity.
"Ah, yes," he said lightly; "exactly.
I daresay Eve only ate the apple because she didn't like to see such a lot of good fruit go to waste."