"I will hear no explanation," said the old gentleman. "No argument--no character--no references can prevail against so wicked a felony so clearly proved. The youth, condition in life, and education of the person, only render the crime more detestable, and the necessity for a terrible example more unavoidable. Your own good sense should have taught you, sir, that threats are here out of place, and violence can only make matters worse. I have solemnly vowed that I would meet the next case with the utmost rigor of the law. I am determined to prosecute. Where is the prisoner? Policemen, take her into custody." "But," cried Franklin. "I will hear no more," said Mr. Blake, coldly and firmly. "Mr. Jennings, who has gone over the case with the most attention, is thoroughly convinced--" "Thoroughly!" said Mr. Jennings. "Policemen--" Franklin's brain whirled in wild despair. He clasped his hands--he conjured the mild, mistaken man, whose slightest word could save Caroline from destruction. "Mercy! I ask only one day." "Young man, you plead in vain! Ask mercy of God, but not of me." "Then listen, heart of stone!" cried Franklin, "and hear my final words. You are old. Your head is white; your feet are already in the grave. You will, ere long, be called before your Maker--yourself a trembling suppliant for mercy. If, with cold-blooded, stupid obstinacy, in the face of my warning, you drag this innocent and modest girl, prematurely, into a police office--at a bar for criminals--to stand a spectacle for the public, amid robbers, and murderers, and to run the fearful chances of the law, I solemnly warn you, old man, you will have innocent blood on your conscience--you will call down God's curse upon your head." "What can I do?" said Mr. Blake, overwhelmed by his irresistible earnestness. "You can do unto others, as you would have them do unto you--you can give us time for proof, and yourself for reflection. You can suppose it was your own daughter in her place. You can examine more carefully. You can break from the leading-strings of that malignant Mr. Jennings. You can consult with Mr. Blanchard, a man of reason and feeling, who disapproves your severity. You can wait to satisfy yourself that this young lady is distinguished for a stainless character, a pure life, strict religious principles, humble faith in God, and habitual communion with him. You can judge for yourself whether this is a case of _monomania_--whether a person thus distinguished, could be guilty of intentional purloining. Sir, ocular demonstration weighs _nothing_ against such a character. You can ask yourself more dispassionately whether it be not a possibility--a very natural one--for an absent-minded person to commit such an act mechanically and unconsciously. You can hear her artless story from her own lips, and candidly consider if it _may not_ be the truth."