Peter's eyes were opened, and he discovered he was not in a bar-room,
but in the Guildhall between rows of unsympathetic faces, and his nice
young companion was not a friend at all; and he knew also he had been
giving evidence against a parishioner. It was useless after that to
proceed with the charge against Brightly in its original form; and his
advocate then attempted to show that he was equally innocent of theft.
Here, however, he failed, and his lordship himself, who felt in the mood
to be merciful, could only point out that circumstantial evidence went
entirely against the prisoner. He didn't believe that Brightly, was a
bad character. A long experience upon the Bench had enabled him to
determine fairly accurately between the hardened criminal and the poor
man who succumbed to sudden temptation. It was a wild cold night, and
the prisoner in his wretched clothes had happened to pass that way, and
when he found the drunken and stunned farmer lying upon the road the
temptation to strip him of his clothing had been too strong. The
subsequent ill-treatment of the senseless man, no doubt to gratify some
old grudge, was the unpleasant feature of the case. It was not
altogether easy for him to believe that Brightly had worked
single-handed. He left the case to the small grocer and the candle-maker
with every confidence that they would bring in a verdict in accordance
with the evidence, and he hoped that their consciences would direct them
aright. The consciences did their work rapidly, Brightly was declared
guilty, and the learned judge found that he would not be doing his duty
to the country if he sentenced him to less than three months'
imprisonment with hard labour. The next case was called, and the police
began as usual to complain about the sentence, and to declare that it
was no use doing their duty when judges wouldn't do theirs. The prisoner
was removed weeping, asking the gentlemen if they wouldn't let him have
his little dog, and begging the warder to take his "duppence" and go out
to buy him some rat-poison.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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