Now, the Lawyer's expectation may become verified. There is no sort of doubt in any of the twelve that the accused is a horrid wretch, and that he is guilty. But one man has got hold of an idea, based upon something said by the Judge, or perhaps only the suggestion of his own mind; and think of the vanity, the stupidity, the dishonesty, the mere indifference, the obstinacy, the excessive timidity, the weakness, which is likely to be in each of the twelve; one man has got _his_ opinion--it is a matter of conscience. The one man is sufficient. Nothing can move him. Hour after hour passes. Night comes on--hunger knocks at the stomach; home is wanted; business is exacting; illness oppresses some, lassitude and sheer exhaustion overpower others--the one persists, only more obstinate by opposition--"The man no doubt is guilty, but I doubt if he be guilty according to law!" They cannot agree upon a verdict. The Judge and everybody else long since have gone to _their_ homes and pleasures. _They_ (the twelve) cannot escape unless they agree. To be sure, they may report to the Judge late on the next day that they cannot agree--only, however, to receive new directions (!), and be sent back again and kept till they shall agree! Human nature gives way. The one, strong and resolute, overpowers the eleven--or, rather, there have been only a part who would not have given over long ago. The fine maxim of English law--"_It is better that a thousand guilty escape than that one innocent suffer_"--turns the scale. There is a _doubt_--or something which looks like it--"let the accused have the benefit of it!" Now, in this scene, I am taking it for granted that the twelve are really not dishonest--not one of them. But suppose _one_ is, in secret, the determined friend of the accused!