And in the long, dark, low, oak-panelled room what a crush of people! For the report of the monstrous dealing of the Mures and the strangeness of their crimes, had caused a mighty coil in the town of Edinburgh and in the country round about. So that all the time of the trial there was a constant hum about the doors—now a continuous murmur that forced its way within, and now a louder roar as the doors were opened and shut by the officers of the court. Also, in order to show themselves busybodies, these pot-bellied stripe-jackets went and came every minute or two, pushing right and left with their halberts, which the poor folk had very peaceably to abide as best they might.
But the disposition of the rabble of the city was a marvel to me. For being stirred up by the Bargany folk and by the Earl of Dunbar, Mure's well-wisher, it was singularly unfriendly to us. So that we were almost feared that the criminals might, after all, be let off by the overawing of the assize that sat upon the case. But finally, as it happened, those who were chosen assize-men were mostly landward gentlemen of stout hearts and no subjection to the clamour of the vulgar—such, indeed, as should ever be placed upon the hearing of justice, not mere bodies of the Luckenbooths, who, if they give the verdict against the popular voice, are liable to have their shops and stalls plundered. And James Scrymgeour of Dudhope, a good man, was made the chancellor of the jury.
There were many of the great Lords of Session on the bench. For a case so important and notable had not been tried for years, and the Lords of Secret Council appointed my Lord President himself to be in the chief place in his robes, as well as five other justices in his company, that the dittay might be heard with all equal mind and with great motion of solemnity.
It was eleven by the clock when the judges were ushered in, Sir John Fenton of Fentonbarns, Lord President, coming first and sitting in the midst.
Then the crier of the court shouted, 'Way for His Majesty—for King James the Sext make way!'
And all the people rose up while King James was coming in. He sat upon the bench with the justices indeed, but a little way apart, as having by law no share in their deliberations. Nevertheless he was all the time writing and passing pieces of white paper to them, whereat they bowed very courteously back to him. But whether they took any notice of their import I know not.
Then the prisoners were brought in. John Mure the elder, with his grey hair and commanding presence, looked out of from beneath his eyebrows like a lion ignominiously beset. James Mure the younger came after his father, a heavy, loutish, ignorant man, but somewhat paled with his bloody handling at the instance of the Lords of Secret Council. Also in accordance with the promise of Earl John in the matter of the finding of the cave, James Bannatyne of Chapeldonnan was not set up for trial along with them, which was a wonder to many and an outcry to some of the evilly affected.
Then the court being set, the dittay was read solemnly by a very fair-spoken and courteous gentleman, Thomas Hamilton of Byres, the King's advocate. He spoke in a soft voice as if he were courting a lady. And whenever he addressed a word to the prisoners, it was as if he had been their dearest friend, and grieved that they should thus stand in jeopardy of their lives.
Yet, or so it seemed to me, John Mure was ever his match, and answered him without a moment's hesitancy.
Then, after the advocate's opening, the evidence was led. They called upon me first to arise. And I declare that my knees trembled and shook as they never did before the shock of battle. So that only the sight of Nell's pale face and my mother holding her hand, at all gave me any shred of courage. But, nevertheless, I went, with my tall, blue-banded hat in hand and my Damascus sword by my side, to the stance. And there I told all that I had seen—first of the murder at the Chapel of St Leonards, with the matter of the Grey Man who sat his horse a little way apart among the sandhills. Yet could I not declare on mine oath that I knew of a certainty that this man was the accused John Mure of Auchendrayne. Though as between man and man I was wholly assured of it.
I told also of the sending of the letter and of the confusion of the lad upon his return from the house of Auchendrayne, and of all the other matter which came under my observation, even as I have detailed them in this history, but more briefly. Then a tall, thin, leathery man, Sir John Russell the name of him, advocate for the Mures, stood up and tried to shake me in my averments. But he could not—no, nor any other man. For I wasted no thought on what I ought to say, but out with the plain truth. So that he could not break down the impregnable wall of the thing that was, neither make me say that which was not.
Then there came one after the other the Dominie, Meg Dalrymple, Robert Harburgh, and lastly my own Nell. But they had little more to tell than I had told at the first, till the herald of the court cried out for Marjorie Mure, or Kennedy, called in the pleas the younger lady of Auchendrayne.
Then, pale as a lily flower is pale, clad in white, and with her hair daintily and smoothly braided, she rose and gave her hand to my Lord Cassillis, who brought her with all dignity and observance to the witness stance. So firmly she stood within it, that she seemed a figure of some goddess done in alabaster, the like of that which I had once seen at the entering in of the King's palace at Holy rood House.
There was the stillest silence while Marjorie told her tale. The King stood up in his place, with his hat on his head, to look at her. The judges gazed as though they had seen a ghost. But in an even voice she related all the terrible story, making it clear as crystal, till there stood out the full wickedness of the unparalleled murders.
'You are the wife of James Mure, the younger prisoner,' said the man of leather, the advocate Russell,; 'how then do you appear to give evidence against him?'
'I was first the daughter of Thomas Kennedy of Culzean, whom these men slew!' said she.
And this was her sole answer. The lawyers for the defence, as was their duty, tried to make it out that her evidence was prejudiced, and so to shake it. But the King broke out upon them, 'No more than we are all prejudiced against foul murder!'
So they were silenced. But the judges were manifestly ill at ease, and shifted in their seats—for even the King had not liberty of speech in that place. Yet no man said him nay, because he was the King, and, save it were Maister Robert Bruce, not many cared to brook his sudden violent rages.
Then was entered James Bannatyne, who had been brought to confession (in what fashion it boots not to inquire), and he in his turn detailed, line by line, all the iniquity. So it seemed that now the net was indeed woven about the cruel plotters. But my Lord President, by the King's authority, was instant with the prisoners to confess the murdering of Sir Thomas and of the other—yea, even offering his life (but no more) to either of them who would reveal the matter, and tell who were complices in the conspiracy.
And I think James Mure the younger was a little moved at this offer, for I saw him very plainly move and shift the hand that was upon his head. His father watched him with a sharp eye, and once set his manacled wrist upon his son's shoulder, as it had been to encourage him to remain firm. He himself stood erect and undaunted all the time of the trial, like a tower of ancient strength, while his son sat upon a stool with his back against the bars of the box, as it seemed careless of the crimes which were alleged against him. He had not even lifted his eyes when his wife Marjorie went into the place of witnessing.
At last it was all over, and the men of the jury spoke earnestly together, while John Mure watched them with his lionlike eyes shining from under his hassock of grey hair. The King sat impatiently drumming his hands upon a rail. He would have liked, I could see, to go over to confer with them. But even King Jamie had hardly dared so much as that.
After a short space for consultation their president of assize, Sir James Scrymgeour, stood up in the body of the court with a little paper in his hand,
'King's lieges all, are ye agreed in your verdict?' asked my Lord President.
'We are,' said Sir James, firmly.
'And what is your finding?'
There was a great and mighty silence so that the anxious tapping of the King's fingers on the wooden bench could be heard.
'We find them both GUILTY—' said Sir James.
He would have said more in due form, but there was a thunderous shout from all the Westland folk that were in the hall, so that no more could be heard. But the King was seen upon his feet commanding silence, and the macers of the court struck here and there among them that shouted.
Then when the tumult within was a little hushed, my Lord President rose to pronounce sentence. But he had scarce opened his mouth, when there came through the open windows the angry roaring of the mob without. For the news had already reached them, and Dunbar and others were busily employed stirring them up to make a tumult on behalf of the murderers. My Lord President had a noble voice and the words of condemnation came clear and solemn from him, so that they were heard above the din by every ear in the hall—ay, and even as far as the outer port.
'We discern and adjudge John Mure of Auchendrayne and James Mure his son and apparent heir to be ta'en to the Mercat Cross of Edinburgh, and there their heads to be stricken from their bodies—as being culpable and convict of many treasonable and heinous crimes. Which is pronounced for DOOM!'
And when the officers had removed the prisoners, Marjorie Kennedy walked forth from the hall of judgment, as silent and composed as though she had been coming out of the kirk on a still summer's morning with her Bible in her hand.