It was eight o'clock when the officer returned, with orders to take the jury across the street to the hotel, to supper. They went out in pairs, except that the juryman who was left to fall in with Eli made three with the file ahead, and left Eli to walk alone. This was noticed by the bystanders. At the hotel, Eli could not eat a mouthful. He was seated at one end of the table, and was left entirely out of the conversation. When the jury were escorted back to the courthouse, rumors had evidently begun to arise from his having walked alone, for there was quite a little crowd at the hotel door, to see them. They went as before: four pairs, a file of three, and Eli alone. Then the spectators understood it. When the jury were locked into their room again for the night, Mr. Eldridge sat down by Eli and lit his pipe. “I understand,” he said, “just how you feel. Now, between you and me, there was a good-hearted fellow that kept me out of a bad mess once. I 've never told anybody just what it was, and I don't mean to tell you now, but it brought my blood up standing, to find how near I 'd come to putting a fine steamer and two hundred and forty passengers under water. Well, one day, a year or so after that, this man had a chance to get a good ship, only there was some talk against him, that he drank a little. Well, the owners told him they wanted to see me, and he come to me, and says he, 'Mr. Eldridge, I hope you 'll speak a good word for me; if you do, I 'll get the ship, but if they refuse me this one, I 'm dished everywhere.' Well, the owners put me the square question, and I had to tell 'em. Well, I met him that afternoon on Sacramento Street, as white as a sheet, and he would n't speak to me, but passed right by, and that night he went and shipped before the mast. That's the last I ever heard of him; but I had to do it. Now,” he added, “this man 's been good to you; but the case is proved, and you ought to vote with the rest of us.” “It ain't proved,” said Eli. “The judge said that if any man had a reasonable doubt, he ought to hold out. Now, I ain't convinced.” “Well, that 's easy said,” replied Mr. Eldridge, a little hotly, and he arose, and left him. The jurymen broke up into little knots, tilted their chairs back, and settled into the easiest positions that their cramped quarters allowed. Most of them lit their pipes; the captain, and one or two whom he honored, smoked fragrant cigars, and the room was soon filled with a dense cloud. Eli sat alone by the window. “Sometimes sell two at one house,” said a lank book-agent, arousing himself from a reverie; “once sold three.” “I think the Early Rose is about as profitable as any,” said a little farmer, with a large circular beard. “I used to favor Jacobs's Seedling, but they have n't done so well with me of late years.”