183-2.] Unreportcd Cases. -653 



like a lump of lead from my arms, for his lips had come to my burning 

 cheek, cold cold as a stone ! He had perished !" 



At the next assizes for the county, when most of the foregoing facts 

 came out in observation and evidence, Rachael Parfett's name stood first 

 in the calendar ; but with a humanity usual in cases where a conviction 

 for the most terrible crimes is expected, her trial, instead of being taken 

 on the opening day, was postponed until the Triday, so that if she were 

 found guilty, the intervention of the Sabbath, a dies won, might so far 

 cheat the law, as to add one day to the little sum of life forty-eight hours 

 allotted to the criminal after sentence. Notwithstanding all the inge- 

 nuity of the two leading counsel on the circuit, who had received briefs 

 and unusually large fees on her behalf, from some unknown hand, the 

 jury, without retiring, had, after a brief consultation, faced about in their 

 box, evidently about to pronounce her guilty, the dapper, slim associate 

 of his relative, the judge, had already nibbed the pen intended to record 

 her doom, and, in a tone of pertness, asked that awful question at which 

 so many hearts have quailed, " Gentlemen, are you agreed in your ver- 

 dict?" when a loud shriek interrupted the business of the Court. It did 

 not come from Rachael she had scarcely heard it; for her senses were 

 dead to the world, and her soul, as the writer before quoted says, was 

 apparently half way to Heaven. The sound, at the moment of its utter- 

 ance had so completely filled the court-house, that many an auditor, in 

 different situations, turned round to some pallid female by his side, and 

 thought the shriek was hers. 



After a brief but agonizing pause, a noble-looking woman, gorgeously 

 clad, on whose brow, according to our rustic poet, the very dew of death 

 seemed freezing, rose from her seat by the Judge's side, and, though her 

 lips quivered between the utterance of every word, in a firm clear voice, 

 tendered evidence on Rachael's behalf. While a carriage rolled by the 

 court-house, shattering, as it did, at a moment of such intense interest, 

 even the nerves of those who were not more than ordinarily sensitive, the 

 venerable judge rose and offered to support the agitated witness. She 

 briefly declined his courtesy j but he still stood gazing at her, with an 

 emotion in which every spectator partook. It was the wife of old Sir 

 Ralph's eldest son, who had now succeeded to his father's titles and estates. 

 " Make way," said she, in a tone of authority, and taking what Brodie 

 calls a radiant cherub from her attendant's arms, " this," she added, after 

 having crossed the dock and placed the child on Rachael's bosom, "this, 

 my Lord, is hers : we must not see her murdered !" 



Rachael held forth her hands half unconsciously, to receive the babe, which, 

 as Brodie says, lay playing with her dishevelled locks, the image of young 

 Joy in the arms of Sorrow, while the lady told her tale. Her own child, 

 she said, had suddenly expired in convulsions, and while she was still weep- 

 ing over its little corpse, the great bell of Scroby Hall seemed voluntarily to 

 toll its knell. It was long past midnight, and her attendant, proof against 

 all supernatural ideas, had boldly opened the entrance door. A baby, in 

 its cradle, was on the threshold. Knowing her husband's deep anxiety 

 to have an heir, she had been prevailed on to substitute the corpse of her 

 own for Rachael's living child. Shame had hitherto prevented her from 

 confessing the fraud; but now that an innocent fellow-creature's life was 

 at stake, she could not hesitate to avow the error into which she had been, 

 betrayed. "The blooming boy,'' she added, with an energy that seemed 

 to be mingled with some indignation and more sorrow, " whom I have 



