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They all turned back toward the front as the charges were read, and each prisoner answered, “Not guilty.” Caroline noted that one of them wore a dirty bandage on his hand, and she assumed that this was the man she had bitten.

As the prosecutor began to speak to the jury, and she regarded the scene at the front of the improvised courtroom, she realized that the prisoners would have no advocate. They must speak for themselves.

Almost before she was aware of what was happening, her name was called.

Leaning on her brother’s arm, for her ankle had not yet healed, she made her way to the front of the courtroom, stood with the Bible in her hands, and repeated the words of the oath.

The judge, noting her difficulty with her ankle, caused a chair to be brought for her, and she was seated.

The prosecutor, in a series of questions, began to elicit from her the story of the fateful day.

Caroline Bingley was both intelligent and well-educated.

Keeping her eyes on the man’s face, she answered each of his questions as clearly and completely as she could.

She was determined not to provoke any laughter from the riffraff seated in the back of the courtroom.

She told concisely of setting off from the Pump Room with her footman and following her usual path through the gardens.

She related the dreadful grunt and thud that alerted her to the death of the footman, told of screaming for help, and of the sensation of having the man’s hand clamped over her mouth.

“What happened next, Miss Bingley?” asked the attorney.

“He told me not to make a sound. I bit his hand as hard as I could, then I heard an oath, and moments later I fell unconscious. I knew no more until I awoke under the care of the Carters.”

“And who are the Carters?”

Caroline pointed them out. “That lady and gentleman seated on the first row. They are Miss Maria Carter and her brother, Sir Robert Carter. They were the first persons to come to my assistance that day.”

“What was the nature of your injuries, Miss Bingley?”

“I received a blow to the back of my head which crushed my bonnet and rendered me unconscious. I also sustained an injury to my ankle which is still causing a great deal of pain. I was treated by the surgeon, Mr. Fielding, shortly after he arrived at the scene. Mr. Fielding is here today.” She pointed him out.

“Do you recognize either of the accused?”

“I never saw the men who attacked me, sir. Their faces were covered by their hats, and both were behind me the whole time. However, I recognized the voice of the man with the bandage when he spoke this morning. His voice has a hoarse quality, and I recognize him as the person who told me not to make a sound and then swore at me before I fell unconscious. And that bandage is on the same hand that I bit.”

The prosecutor had no further questions, the accused had no questions, and the judge dismissed Caroline with his thanks.

Bingley came forward and escorted her carefully out of the courtroom and across the street to the inn.

He got his sister settled in the private parlor they had reserved for the ladies, assisted her to put her foot up, and sent for tea.

“It will be a restorative, Caroline.” After he saw that Caroline had been served, he settled back in his own chair.

“Now, do you wish to stay here until the verdict is rendered and sentence is passed? Or would you prefer to go home to rest when the Carters have finished their testimony?”

Caroline leaned back wearily. “I want to stay until the end, please, Charles. I want to be able to go and see poor old Mrs. Foster and tell her that justice has been served. It will not bring back her only son, but it is all I can offer her in the way of comfort. And from what I have heard over the past few weeks, the Bennets are entitled to their measure of justice as well.”

Just then the Carters entered. After Bingley had sent for more tea, Sir Robert said, “I will be happy to stay here with the ladies if you wish to go back to the trial, Bingley. Maria and I have given our testimony, and they are presently hearing from the police and the surgeon. There are two men of Darcy’s who apprehended the men when they returned to Bath.

The whole should not take more than another hour. ”

“Thank you, Carter, I would like to go.” Bingley stood and took his hat. “I will return with my uncle as soon as this is finished. I know I am leaving Caroline in good hands.”

The three remaining talked determinedly about pleasant topics.

It would be apparent to any onlooker that Sir Robert Carter was much taken with Caroline, and she with him.

Miss Maria Carter was pleased with the betrothal and happy to do what she could to forward the alliance.

All were anxious to return to London and thought that it would be possible to do so once this unfortunate business had been concluded.

Charles Bingley entered the courtroom and made his way back to his uncle.

Having taken his seat, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The sheer magnitude of the crimes which had been committed overwhelmed him.

He sat with the turmoil of his thoughts, paying little attention as the prosecuting attorney addressed the jury, or as the judge gave them their charge.

They huddled together in a corner of the room to consider their verdict.

Bingley was startled from his reverie by his Uncle Bingley. “No idea how long they will take, my boy. Would you care to take a turn in the fresh air?”

“No, thank you, Uncle. I will wait here. I doubt it will be long.”

His uncle left, and Bingley barely had time to sit back again before the jury returned. It had taken them less than fifteen minutes.

A tall, stout, white-haired man identified himself as the jury foreman, and in response to questions pronounced by the clerk, delivered the verdict for each man. Guilty. Guilty. Bingley felt these words fall almost as physical blows.

Time seemed to stop as everyone stood. The judge, having put on his black cap and gloves, faced the prisoners and pronounced the same sentence on each one in turn.

“The sentence of this court is that you will be taken from here to the place from whence you came and there be kept in close confinement until the 13th day of August 18__, and upon that day that you be taken to the place of execution and there hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may God have mercy upon your soul.”

At that moment, Uncle Bingley touched him on the arm. “We should get back to the others. Come this way.”

All Bingley could say was, “Day after tomorrow. They will be hanged day after tomorrow.”

When she heard the news, Caroline’s eyes filled with tears, and she found herself weeping.

Afterward, she would not be able to say if it was from shock, horror at the punishment, a delayed reaction to the events of the day the crime took place, or plain relief that all was over.

Her companions allowed her some privacy to recover, and soon the group was on its way back to Bath.