The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [347]
‘How would you describe my state of mind at that time?’
‘Melancholy, listless, abstracted.’
‘When you heard that I had been accused of theft, were you surprised?’
‘Astonished. I did not believe it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because, knowing you as I do, the idea that you should steal anything is inconceivable.’
‘I have no further questions.’
The prosecution bounced up now and rolled towards the vicar. ‘Tell me, Sir, when the defendant says that she stole a piece of lace, do you believe her?’
‘Most certainly. I have never known her tell an untruth in her life.’
‘So she did it. I have no further questions.’
The judge looked at Fanny. It was up to her now.
‘I may address the court on my own behalf, My Lord?’
‘You may.’
She bowed her head and turned towards the jury.
The twelve members of the jury watched her carefully. They were tradesmen, mostly, with a couple of local farmers, a clerk and two craftsmen. Their natural sympathies were with the shopkeeper. They felt sorry for the young lady, but couldn’t see how she could be innocent.
‘Gentlemen of the jury,’ Fanny began, ‘it may have surprised you that I did not seek to contradict a word of the evidence given against me.’ They did not say anything but it was plain that it had. ‘I did not even try to suggest that the assistant in the shop had made a mistake.’ She paused for only a moment. ‘Why should I do so? These are good and honest people. They have told you what they saw. Why should anyone disbelieve them? I believe them.’
She gazed at the jury, now, and they at her. They were not sure where this was leading, but they were listening carefully.
‘Gentlemen of the jury, I would ask you now to consider my situation. You have heard from Mr Gilpin, a clergyman of the highest repute, as to my character. I have never stolen anything in my life. You have also heard as to my fortune. Even if I were inclined to a life of crime, which God knows I am not, is there any reason why I should not have paid for a piece of lace? My fortune is large. It makes no sense.’ Again she paused to let this sink in.
‘I now ask you to remember the testimony as to what occurred when I was confronted outside the shop. It seems that I said nothing. Not a word. Why should that be?’ She looked from face to face. ‘Gentlemen, it was because I was so astonished. Honest people told me I had taken a piece of lace. The evidence was before my eyes. I could not deny it. I did not suppose them to be lying. They were not. I had taken the lace. I say I took it now. Yet I was so astonished that I did not know what to answer. And I tell you very truly, I scarcely have known how to answer for my actions ever since. For I must ask you to believe: I did not know that I had done so. Gentlemen, I make no denial, I simply tell you, I was unaware that I had dropped that piece of lace into my bag. I was never more astonished in my life.’ She looked at the judge, then back to the jury.
‘How can this be? I do not know. It is true, as Mr Gilpin said, that I was at that time in some distress. I remember, that afternoon, that my mind had been much upon my dear father, who had been unwell. I had been considering whether to return from Bath to be with him, because I had a strong intimation that he might be close to his end – an intimation, alas, which proved to be correct. It was with a mind full of such thoughts that I wandered, somewhat abstracted, around that shop. I do not even remember looking at the lace, but I suppose that, with my mind entirely elsewhere, as I passed by the table, I must have placed it in my bag. Perhaps, in my abstraction I imagined I was somewhere else, at home perhaps. For gentlemen.’ Her voice now rose. ‘How, under what influence, for what possible motive should I steal a piece