The Pirate, and The Three CuttersMarryat, Frederick
General
The Pirate, and The Three Cutters
Marryat, Frederick
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Pirates -- Fiction; Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
The judge upon the bench, the counsel at the bar, and the jury
impannelled in their box, felt the force of the appeal; and it softened
down the evil impression created by the address of Hawkhurst against the
youthful Francisco. The eyes of all were now directed towards the one
doubly accused--accused not only by the public prosecutor, but even by
his associate in crime--and the survey was favourable. They acknowledged
that he was one whose personal qualities might indeed challenge the love
of woman in his pride, and her lament in his disgrace; and as their
regard was directed towards him, the sun, which had been obscured, now
pierced through a break in the mass of clouds, and threw a portion of
his glorious beams from a window opposite upon him, and him alone, while
all the other prisoners who surrounded him were buried more or less in
deep shadow. It was at once evident that his associates were bold yet
commonplace villains--men who owed their courage, their only virtue
perhaps, to their habits, to their physical organisation, or the
influence of those around them. They were mere human butchers, with the
only adjunct that, now that the trade was to be exercised upon
themselves, they could bear it with sullen apathy--a feeling how far
removed from true fortitude! Even Hawkhurst, though more commanding than
the rest, with all his daring mien and scowl of defiance, looked nothing
more than a distinguished ruffian. With the exception of Francisco, the
prisoners had wholly neglected their personal appearance; and in them
the squalid and sordid look of the mendicant seemed allied with the
ferocity of the murderer.
Francisco was not only an exception, but formed a beautiful contrast to
the others; and as the evening beams lighted up his figure, he stood at
the bar, if not with all the splendour of a hero of romance, certainly a
most picturesque and interesting personage, elegantly if not richly
attired.
The low sobs at intervals repeated, as if impossible to be checked,
seemed to rouse and call him to a sense of the important part which he
was called upon to act in the tragedy there and then performing. His
face was pale, yet composed; his mien at once proud and sorrowful; his
eye was bright, yet his glance was not upon those in court, but far
away, fixed, like an eagle's, upon the gorgeous beams of the setting
sun, which glowed upon him through the window that was in front of him.
At last the voice of Francisco was heard, and all in that wide court
started at the sound--deep, full, and melodious as the evening chimes.
The ears of those present had, in the profound silence, but just
recovered from the harsh, deep-toned, and barbarous idiom of Hawkhurst's
address, when the clear, silvery, yet manly voice of Francisco riveted
their attention. The jury stretched forth their heads, the counsel and
all in court turned anxiously round towards the prisoner, even the judge
held up his forefinger to intimate his wish for perfect silence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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