Once or twice Mr. Saunders moved uneasily in his seat. He knew it was growing late, with many things at home demanding his attention--the stock to be fed, the horses watered, the night's chores to be done--yet he felt he could not pull himself away until he had heard some message from the jury room, either of good or evil. The others waited, too. A vague hum of voices talking in low undertones gradually overcame the quiet that had fallen on the waiting crowd, and from time to time anxious and impatient glances were shot toward the closed doors, through which the jury were to come. The gray evening shadows without, presaging the approach of night, perhaps the prisoner's doom, silently crept into the room, mingling with the gloomier shadows within the building. Presently the janitor came and lighted some ill-smelling lamps, one upon the Judge's desk, the others clinging to the grimy walls, and soon these lights began to struggle through the smoky chimneys, striving against the deepening shadows in unequal battle, as the good frequently combats with the evil in our natures. At last, after interminable hours of suspense, it seemed to the waiting girl, the slow tramp--tramp--of the jury down the stairway from the room above, struck her expectant ear like the doleful tread of a funeral procession. Nearer and nearer came the sound, then the courtroom doors were thrown open, and the twelve men entered, two by two, and quietly took their places in the jury box. The Judge had laid aside his paper, and was leaning attentively on the desk, while every neck was craned forward in eager expectancy. A profound hush fell, and each ear was bent to hear the verdict, whose grave import many already guessed. Those in the rear of the room were tiptoeing and peering anxiously over the heads of the ones in front, while a few who had been waiting on the outside of the building now hurried in and pressed quickly forward. Sally sat immovable, her hands clenched tightly in an agony of cruel suspense, her heart-throbs sounding in her ears like funeral bells, her face immobile as stone. She had given one swift, piercing look toward the jury as they entered, as if to read in advance the verdict they had brought, and the grave, stern faces she saw froze her very heart with the dire import of that verdict. From the jury her eyes had centered on the prisoner, who had lifted his head, and was calmly awaiting the words that were to give him freedom, or--he dared not think further--life had suddenly grown very sweet to him. The clear voice of the judge broke in upon the profound silence that had fallen on the entrance of the jury: "Gentlemen, have you found a verdict?" "We have," the foreman answered. "The Court is ready to hear it." The foreman stepped forward, and, clearing his throat, began to speak: "Your Honor we, the jury, find the prisoner is"--