They Hanged My Saintly Billy (60 page)
So
I
went,
and
right
glad
I
am
that
I
did,
as
it
turned
out.
You may
know
that
when
they
took
him
away,
he
gave
me
a
fifty-pound
note,
all
the
money
he
had,
bless
his
kind
soul!
Captain Hatton
tried
to
take
it
from
me,
but
I
wouldn't
give
it
up.
He says:
'Mr
Stevens
has
a
list
of
the
numbers
of
all
the
ten-pound and
fifty-pound
notes
p
aid
to
Mr
Cook
at
Shrewsbury,
and
this will
be
one
of
them.
It
s
wanted
as
evidence.'
The
Doctor
turns
very
coolly
to
Captain
Hatton
and
says:
'I think
you'll
be
wise
to
leave
Miss
Eliza
in
possession
of
the
note.'
'And
why,
may
I
ask?'
the
Captain
wants
to
know.
'I'll
tell
you
why,'
Dr
Palmer
answers.
'The
money
was
entrusted
to
mc
by
Mr
Cook,
not
stolen
from
him
and,
with
his consent,
I
sent
four
of
the
ten-pound
notes
to
pay
off
a
young lady
who
has
been
blackmailing
me
because
of
some
foolish
letters I
wrote
her.'
'That's
no
concern
of
mine,'
says
the
Captain.
'By
your
leave,
Sir,
it
should
be,'
retorts
the
Doctor.
'The young
lady
is
the
daughter
of
a
colleague
of
yours;
and
the
letters show
that
she
wanted
the
money
to
pay
for
an
illegal
operation.'
At
this
point
I
break
into
their
conversation:
'Yes,
Captain Hatton,'
I
says,
'it's
true.
I
brought
her
the
other
halves
of
the notes—for
the
Doctor
had
sent
only
half-notes
to
make
sure
she'd play
fair—and
watched
while
she
gummed
them
together
and went
to
change
them
at
the
bank.
The
bank
clerks,
they'll
have taken
the
numbers,
I've
no
doubt,
and
the
notes
can
be
traced
to her.'
This
piece
of
news
seemed
to
dismay
the
Captain,
so
I
went
on: 'Come,
Sir,
your
hand
on
the
bargain!
You
leave
me
with
this fifty-pound
note,
which
I'll
change
at
the
same
bank,
and
trust
me to
keep
silent.'
'Nobody
would
believe
a
word
of
what
you
say,
you
common slut,'
Captain
Hatton
shouts.
'Now,
just
for
that,'
says
I,
quiet
but
very
vexed,
'I've
a
good mind
to
do
what
I
first
thought
of
doing,
which
is
to
sell
the young
lady's
blackmailing
letters
to
The Illustrated Times.
I
could get
another
fifty
pounds
for
them
quite
easy.'
'Where
are
they?'
the
Captain
asks
threateningly.
'Ah,
wouldn't
you
like
to
know?'
I
answers,
laughing
in
his face,
I
was
so
emboldened
by
rage.
The
Captain
grins
back
at
me
and
says:
'You're
a
smart
lass.' Then
we
shake
hands
on
our
bargain.
But
he
turns
to
the
Doctor and
growls:
'This
smart
trick
of
yours
isn't
going
to
help
you, Palmer!'
The
Doctor
answers,
most
polite:
'I
trust
that
you'll
do
nothing dishonourable,
Captain
Hatton.
The
Stafford
Constabulary
have a
high
reputation
for
fair
dealing,
you
know.'
Chapter XXI
IF
DOCTORS
DISAGREE
.. .
WQ
E
refer
our
readers
to
The Times's
verbatim
report
for details
of
the
plentiful
and
complicated
medical
evidence offered.
Dr
Bamford,
suffering
(curiously
enough)
from
English cholera,
the
very
disease
to
which
he
had
attributed
the
late
Annie Palmer's
death,
was
unable
to
attend
the
trial,
but
made
a
sworn statement
to
the
effect
that
the
antimony
which
Professor
Alfred Taylor
found
in
Cook's
organs
had
not
been
prescribed
by
himself
in
the
form
of
tartar
emetic.
So
far,
so
good;
then
the
egregious
Professor
Taylor
mounted into
the
witness
box.
He
had
at
first
diagnosed
antimony
as
the cause
of
death,
though
discovering
only
half
a
grain,
which
is
no more
than
most
of
us
healthy
modern
men
carry
about
in
our vitals,
without
trouble
or
hazard.
He
conveyed
this
opinion
to Mr
Gardiner
in
the
letter
which
Cheshire,
the
Rugeley
Postmaster,
intercepted
and
opened
at
Dr
Palmer's
request;
but
hearing
then
that
Cook
had
been
overcome
by
a
convulsion
shortly before
he
died,
and
that
Dr
Palmer
had
bought
the
strychnia
from Messrs
Hawkins's
shop,
the
Professor
changed
his
mind.
Death, he
now
concluded,
must
have
resulted
from
str
ychjiine
poisoning, because
the
human
body
can
absorb
up
to
sixty
grains
of
antimony
and
suffer
no
fatal
consequences.
To
us
this
seems
a
non sequitur.
As
a
wag
has
put
it: