A clerk had been sent out early in November by Robert and William Bolton to make inquiry in the colony, and he could not well return before the end of March.  And, if the accused man should ask for delay, it would hardly be possible to refuse the request as it might be necessary for his defence that he, too, should get evidence from the colony.  The next assizes would be in April, and it would hardly be possible that the trial should take place so soon.  And if not there would be a delay of three or four months more.  Even that might hardly suffice should a plea be made on Caldigate’s behalf that prolonged inquiry was indispensable.  A thousand allegations might be made, as to the characters of these witnesses,—­characters which doubtless were open to criticism; as to the probability of forgery; as to the necessity of producing Allan, the clergyman; as to Mrs. Smith’s former position,—­whether or no she was in truth a widow when she was living at Ahalala.  Richard Shand had been at Ahalala, and must have known the truth.  Caldigate might well declare that Richard Shand’s presence was essential to his defence.  There would and must be delay.

But what, in the meantime, would be the condition of Hester,—­Hester Bolton, as they feared that they would be bound in duty to call her,—­of Hester and her infant?  The thing was so full of real tragedy,—­true human nature of them all was so strongly affected, that for a time family jealousies and hatred had to give way.  To father and mother and to the brothers, and to the brother’s wife, it was equally a catastrophe, terrible, limitless, like an earthquake, or the falling upon them of some ruined tower.  One thing was clear to them all,—­that she and her child must be taken away from Folking.  Her continued residence there would be a continuation of the horror.  The man was not her husband.  Not one of them was inspired by a feeling of mercy to allege that, in spite of all that they had heard, he still might be her husband.  Even Mrs. Robert, who had been most in favour of the Caldigate marriage, did not doubt for an instant.  The man had been a gambler at home on racecourses, and then had become a gambler at the gold-mines in the colony.  His life then, by his own admission, had been disreputable.  Who does not know that vices which may be treated with tenderness, almost with complaisance, while they are kept in the background, became monstrous, prodigious, awe-inspiring when they are made public?  A gentleman shall casually let slip some profane word, and even some friendly parson standing by will think but little of it; but let the profane word, through some unfortunate accident, find its way into the newspapers, and the gentleman will be held to have disgraced himself almost for ever.  Had nothing been said of a marriage between Caldigate and Mrs. Smith, little would have been thought by Robert Bolton, little perhaps by Robert Bolton’s father, little even by Robert Bolton’s wife, of the unfortunate alliance which he had admitted.  But now, everything was added to make a pile of wickedness as big as a mountain.