He rose to speak for the defence with an icy clog upon his faculties,
while beneath that frozen surface the something that had been shackled
reared and struggled vainly. Vocabulary, cunning of phrase, and
logical sequence of argument had not deserted him; he realised this
with a blind rage that seemed with a singular separateness to lie
outside of himself--to associate itself strangely with the prisoner.
But the persuasion that had so often checkmated justice, the calculated
force, the insinuating tactfulness, the living, warm appeal that had
had their way in the past were absent. He had a curious feeling of
duality, as though two Harry Seviers had suddenly and painfully drawn
apart--the one whose measured voice was speaking, and the other which
clamoured and appealed, conscious only of its own deadly smother and of
the despairing face of the man with the wiry sand-coloured hair who sat
slouched in his chair beside him.
The roomful seemed very still. The Judge was looking at him fixedly,
through bowed horn-glasses set far down on his nose. Harry was aware
that in the countenance of the state's attorney puzzle and a stealthy
relief struggled together. With desperate narrowness he watched the
faces of the jury for a sign, a tentative withdrawal of stolidity that
betokened a quickened and awakening interest. But they sat moveless
and impassive. There was a last hideous pause, in which he thought the
foreman suppressed an incipient yawn, when his own brain refused
further struggle. He knew that he had been betrayed. The door of
human sympathy would not open--he had lost the magic key.
The reply of the State's Attorney was a mere _résumé_ of the evidence.
He had needed no more. The Judge's charge was brief. Then had come
the stir of moving bodies and the buzz of whispers--the shuffling of
feet as the Judge retired and the jurors filed out--and at length the
painful hiatus with the red sunlight and the pallid lamps.
This was broken presently by three measured raps on the door of the
jury-room, which, as the Judge re-entered, opened to admit the jurors.
They were quickly polled and the verdict given--guilty. The sentence
followed immediately.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account