The Kit-Bag Algernon Blackwood Author
by Algernon Blackwood
2021-04-11 15:56:36
The Kit-Bag Algernon Blackwood Author
by Algernon Blackwood
2021-04-11 15:56:36
When the words 'Not Guilty' sounded through the crowded courtroom thatdark December afternoon, Arthur Wilbraham, the great criminal KC, andleader for the triumphant defence, was represented by his junior; butJohnson, his private secretary, carried th...
Read more
When the words 'Not Guilty' sounded through the crowded courtroom thatdark December afternoon, Arthur Wilbraham, the great criminal KC, andleader for the triumphant defence, was represented by his junior; butJohnson, his private secretary, carried the verdict across to hischambers like lightning.'It's what we expected, I think,' said the barrister, without emotion;'and, personally, I am glad the case is over.' There was no particularsign of pleasure that his defence of John Turk, the murderer, on a pleaof insanity, had been successful, for no doubt he felt, as everybody whohad watched the case felt, that no man had ever better deserved thegallows.'I'm glad too,' said Johnson. He had sat in the court for ten dayswatching the face of the man who had carried out with callous detail oneof the most brutal and cold-blooded murders of recent years.Be counsel glanced up at his secretary. They were more than employer andemployed; for family and other reasons, they were friends. 'Ah, Iremember; yes,' he said with a kind smile, 'and you want to get away forChristmas? You're going to skate and ski in the Alps, aren't you? If Iwas your age I'd come with you.'Johnson laughed shortly. He was a young man of twenty-six, with adelicate face like a girl's. 'I can catch the morning boat now,' he said;'but that's not the reason I'm glad the trial is over. I'm glad it's overbecause I've seen the last of that man's dreadful face. It positivelyhaunted me. Bat white skin, with the black hair brushed low over theforehead, is a thing I shall never forget, and the description of the waythe dismembered body was crammed and packed with lime into that--''Don't dwell on it, my dear fellow,' interrupted the other, looking athim curiously out of his keen eyes, 'don't think about it. Such pictureshave a trick of coming back when one least wants them.' He paused amoment. 'Now go,' he added presently, 'and enjoy your holiday. I shallwant all your energy for my Parliamentary work when you get back. Anddon't break your neck skiing.'
Less
