Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-03-08
DARK DAYS.
BY HUGH CONWAY.
-Author OF Called Back.
CHAPTER NV-coSrINUED.


this with intense curiosity, end3ayoring to
determine the station of the man who is now
about to be tried for his life. | can but
gather this much: He is tall and slight. His
dress Is of a Semi-reSpectable nature, but
seems 10 have seen much service. He might
be anything from broken-down clerk to a
gentleman's servant ont OF elbows. | re-
jpice at his ppverty-Stricken appearance
Judging from it, money will be welcome to
him. Let the jury hut assert his innocence,
and feel certain that the liberal eclniary
compensation which it is my intention to
mete ont will repay him hundred m 5
for the ordeal which he is undergoing.
OrdealI Yys, it IS the right word. 1t is
easy 10 see il is a terrible ordeal to the poor
fellow. No need to look at his face To be
told that much. Even as he emerged from
the cells below he seemed 10 quake with
fear. Now he absolutely falls forward in
the dock. supporting himself by grasping
the iron railing which runs round the top l
notice that his fingers, as they cling TO the
iron bars, open and close convulsive!y.
Every movement of his back and shoulders
betrays fear and anguish of mind. His state
is pitiahle, SO pitiab.e that one of his GUS
todians places his hands under the wretch
Ell mans arm and gives him the physical
support which he 50 sOrely needs He bends
his head as in shame. and know that could
/ see his face, it would be white as my own
or my wife'S.
In spite of the strain upon my mind, l was
able to wonder at the prisoners hopeless de-
meanor. Although had, as it were, torn
my very heart out by the roots toinsure this
mans safety in the event Of things going
wrong with him; although did not even
now regret the course | had taken, l am
bound to say that his eowardly behavior
took away much OF the sympathy which L
should otherwise have felt for him in his
unmerited predicament. 1t is, of course,
very easy 10 say what one would do if in
another's place. | certainly felt sure that,
were l in that poor fellows plight that
consciousness of my own innocence would
give me strength enough 10 raise my head,
and face b-1ldly all the judges, juries, and
prosecuting counsel in the world. / was
willing to make every allowance for the
nervousness natural to such position; but
/ groaned inwardly as l gazed upon that
miserable, limp, haIf-standing, half-reclin-
ing form.
Why does he not stand upright? Too well
wretch with interest even more intense than
mine. l know that every attitude of shame
or fear is understood by Philippa, and adds
to the Scruplrs which she feels at following
my advice and awaiting the result of the
trial. Every agonized movement of the
prisoner in the dock seems TO be family re-
produced 10y the hand within my own. Every
pang he suffers runs through the frame Of
A. ~, l.,
for her deed.
The clerk reads over the Indictment:
THAT he, William Evans did feloniously,
wii.fuliy, aud of malice aforethought kill
and murder SIR Meryyn Ferrand, Baronet"
As the reading proceeds Philippa draws me
toward her. BASIL she says in low
whisper. this is more dreadful than l
dreamed of. Icannot bear it longer. Think
OF that poor mans anguish! Basil, he also
may have a wife who loves him; she may
be in the court. Think of her! Oh, what
can do? What can dor
.'Nothing-nothinc but wait and hope" l
answer.
Could You not 20 down and speak to him,
or send q message in some way? Tell him
not to be so wretched; that even at the last
moment he will be saved: that the real muir
derer VIII confess and free him. Basil, you
must do this
Il cannot. dare not. Il would ruin us.
Hush, dearest: be calm, and listen"
The reading of the Indictment is now over.
The clerk turns to the prisoner. Are YOU
guilty, or not guilty." he asks, in clear
voice. Although every one in that court
knows what the answer will be, there Is a
silence so profound that a pin might b.
heard drop. Every one seemed deSirOuS of
hearing the prisoners voice. Even I, my
self, lean forward, and strain every nerve to
hear his plea.
There is long, dead pause. 1t may be
that the prisoner does not understand that
he is expected to reply. 1t may be that his
collapsed state deprives him of the power of
speech. notice that one of the policemen
touches him on the shoulder, and whispers
TO him. Still for moment there is silence.
1t is broken, but not by the prisoner. Phi
lippa gives low, soft wall, heard only,
think, by me.
Il can bear il no longer" she whispers.
She snatches her hand from mine. She
throws back her thick. dark veil, and stands
erect in the body of the court. | cast one
glance at her pale but determined looking
face, then bow my head upon my hands,
and wish that death might az that moment
smite us both. All is over. am conquered.
Even as / hide my face see every eye in
that thrOnged court turning to the tall, ma
iestic, dark-robed figure which rises in the
midst Of that motley throDg. Then, cleaI
and loud, / hear her beloved voice ring out
My lord" hear her say. / raise my
head at the sound. The eyes of bench, bar,
jury, and public are fixed upon her. The
very prisoner turns in the dock and gazes
straight at her.
She gets no further than those two words,
''Order in the court! Order in the cnurt!'
is shouted - Sternly and fiercely that she
all but loses her presence of mind. She
falters, she hasitates and glances helplessly
around. L seize the moment. By sheer force
L drag her back to her seat. L pray her by
the love she bears me to wait in silence. |
draw the veil over her face, TO hide it from
the hundreds of curious eyes which are
turned upon it. While so doing | hear the |
sharp mandate, Turn that person out of |
court"
Had any serious attempt been made to |
put the order in force, | believe that Philip |
pa would have resisted, and once more at |
tempted 10 assert the prisoners innocence |
and her own guiit-if it was guilt. Fortu- |
nately the policeman who draws near us 10 |
curry out the order is my friend of the morn |
ing who mad accepted my gold. 1t may be |
on this account he favorS Us. 1t may be, I
when a momeGtary disturbance subsidies, |
and the perpetratOr does not seem bent up- |
on repeating it, that the expulsion is not in |
sisted upon. 1t may be that Philippa's ac-
costing the judge was looked upon as sole |
ciSm brought about by the excitement of a /
weak woman who was in some way connect
ed with the prisoner. l suppose such
scene does sometimes occur; and perhaps,
If its repetition is guarded against, a hui
iudge will not deny the Of
fender the sorry comfort of seeing her
friends trial to the end. Perhaps the Judge
who this day preSides is unusually goo Ina
.ured and easy-going. Anyway, our friend
y policeman does not carry out his instruc-
ions and the court resumes its business.
But many curious looks are cast at the
relied woman by nv side. | notice that the
lawk-faced Mrs. Wilson turns in her seat,