The Triumph of Grace Read Online Free PDF Page A

are not garments expected to be found in the possession of a wretched slave girl . . . or even, of a servant girl. These items of clothing—along with leg stockings, cap, and shoes—were retrieved from a hiding place in the wall of Grace Winslow's cell at the Foundling Hospital. They were so carefully hidden away behind a loose brick at the rear of her cot that a good bit of investigation was required to locate them."
    Whispers and murmurs arose throughout the courtroom.
    "No!" Grace protested. "Missus Peete made those clothes for me—"
    "Silence!" the judge ordered. "You have no right to speak in this court, madam. You are not under oath, nor shall you be."
    "But Missus Peete—"
    "Silence! Everyone here can clearly see clothing found in your possession that could not possibly be yours. I caution you, miss: do not make your situation worse than it is already."
    A satisfied smile danced at the edges of Lord Reginald's fragile mouth.
    "Does Your Lordship desire to see further evidence of the fruits of this woman's thievery?"
    Without waiting for an answer, Lord Reginald triumphantly held high an embroidered silk purse.
    "I ask you," he boomed to the entire assemblage, "is there any legal way that a wretched servant, such as the one you see before you in the dock today, could honorably obtain so fine a silk purse?"
    He opened the flap and turned the purse upside down. One by one, Grace's hard-earned shillings clattered to the floor.
    ". . . Filled with thirty-eight shilling coins?"
    "Captain Ross gave that to me!" Grace cried.
    "You will not speak!" the exasperated judge roared. "One more time and I shall see you locked into restraints! Had you desired to present a defense, you should have written it out properly and submitted it before the trial began. Had you done so, I should have read it on your behalf. As I was presented with no such document, I consider your rights duly waived."
    Grace clenched her fists in silent exasperation.
    "I should say, however, I cannot see that such a statement would have done you one particle of good," Lord Judge North added. "Not in the presence of so profound a mountain of evidence."
    "As to value," Lord Reginald said, "the fine handkerchief is in itself worth a minimum of six shillings. The silk purse must surely be worth another eight. The shirt and breeches? A full twenty-eight shillings for the set, I should say. That brings the total to forty-one shillings. When one adds the thirty-eight shillings hidden inside the purse—which can be nothing other than the fruits of thievery—the Crown must of a certainty agree that Grace Winslow committed thievery with a value greater than forty shillings. Therefore, Grace Winslow most certainly committed a crime for which the sentence is death!"
    A frown crossed Judge North's face. Off to his side, the men of the jury fell to murmuring their opinions to one another.Valuable goods, without a doubt—yet not of so great a value.That they were stolen from the rich estate of a powerful Lord was a fact that must weigh heavily in the decision, most assuredly.Furthermore, the theft was perpetrated while the master of the house performed an act of charity toward the accused— which he most certainly must have done, for why else would so ragged an African as now stood before them even have been in Larkspur Estate?
    It was these final two points that made it an offense that absolutely could not be tolerated.
    "Your Lordship," Lord Reginald said with a deep bow, "I can provide further witnesses for the Crown. I assure you that each in turn will attest to Grace Winslow's dealings in stolen goods. Each will also—"
    "Yes, yes," the judge said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
    Lord Judge North was growing impatient with the endless talk. Many other thieves awaited trial that day, and he had no wish to be late for his dinner. Anyway, the judge knew all about "witnesses for the Crown." Like as not, those very same men had stood before his bench more times