The figure of Colonel Starbottle alone remained erect—white and
rigid. And then the Judge, looking up, saw what no one else in the
court had seen—that the Colonel was sincere and in earnest; that
what he had conceived to be the pleader’s most perfect acting,
and most elaborate irony, were the deep, serious, mirthless
_convictions_ of a man without the least sense of humor. There was
a touch of this respect in the Judge’s voice as he said to him,
gently, “You may proceed, Colonel Starbottle.”
“I thank your Honor,” said the Colonel, slowly, “for recognizing
and doing all in your power to prevent an interruption that,
during my thirty years’ experience at the bar, I have never yet
been subjected to without the privilege of holding the instigators
thereof responsible—_personally_ responsible. It is possibly my
fault that I have failed, oratorically, to convey to the gentlemen
of the jury the full force and significance of the defendant’s
signals. I am aware that my voice is singularly deficient in
producing either the dulcet tones of my fair client or the
impassioned vehemence of the defendant’s repose. I will,” continued
the Colonel, with a fatigued but blind fatuity that ignored the
hurriedly knit brows and warning eyes of the Judge, “try again.
The note uttered by my client” (lowering his voice to the faintest
of falsettos) “was ‘Kerree’; the response was ‘Kerrow’”—and the
Colonel’s voice fairly shook the dome above him.
Another uproar of laughter followed this apparently audacious
repetition, but was interrupted by an unlooked-for incident.
The defendant rose abruptly, and tearing himself away from the
withholding hand and pleading protestations of his counsel,
absolutely fled from the courtroom, his appearance outside being
recognized by a prolonged “Kerrow” from the bystanders, which
again and again followed him in the distance. In the momentary
silence which followed, the Colonel’s voice was heard saying, “We
rest here, your Honor,” and he sat down. No less white, but more
agitated, was the face of the defendant’s counsel, who instantly
rose.
“For some unexplained reason, your Honor, my client desires to
suspend further proceedings, with a view to effect a peaceable
compromise with the plaintiff. As he is a man of wealth and
position, he is able and willing to pay liberally for that
privilege. While I, as his counsel, am still convinced of his legal
irresponsibility, as he has chosen, however, to publicly abandon
his rights here, I can only ask your Honor’s permission to suspend
further proceedings until I can confer with Colonel Starbottle.”
“As far as I can follow the pleadings,” said the Judge, gravely,
“the case seems to be hardly one for litigation, and I approve of
the defendant’s course, while I strongly urge the plaintiff to
accept it.”
Colonel Starbottle bent over his fair client. Presently he rose,
unchanged in look or demeanor. “I yield, your Honor, to the wishes
of my client, and—er—lady. We accept.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account