Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-07-23
The Story Teller.
A JURYMAN'S STORY.

very simple One-dl ieaoI VIC S'~'S'
thought so.
A murder of peculiar atrocity had
been committed; and though no eye
had witnessed the deed, circumstan-
ces pointed to the prisoners guilt with
unfailing certainty. The recusant
Juror had stood out from the first. He
acknowledge the cogency or the
proofs. confessed his inability to rec
oncile the facts with the defendants
innocence, and yet, on every vote,
went steadily for acquittal. His con-
duct was inexplicable. 1t could not
result from a lack Of intelligence; for,
while he spoke but little. his words
were we'll chosen and evinced thor
ough understanding Of the case.
Though still in the prime of manhood
his locks were prematurely white, and
his face wore a singularly sad and
thoughtful expression. He might be
one Of those who entertained scruples
as to the right of society to inflict the
death penalty. But no, 1t was not
that; for In reply to such a suggestion
he frankly admitted that brutal men,
like the violent brutes they resemble
must be controlled through fear, and
that dread of death, the supreme ter
ror, is, in many cases, the only ade-
quate restraint
At the prospect Of another night or
fruitless Imprisonment we began to
grow impatient, and expostulated
warmly against what seemed an un-
reasonable captiousness; and some
not over kind remarks were indulged
in as to the impropriety Of trifing
with an oath like that under which
we were acting.
"And yet" the man answered, as
though communicating with himself
rather than repelling the imputation'
"it Is conscience that hinders my con-
currence in a verdict not approved by
my judgment"
How can that be?" queried several
at once.
Conscience may not always dare to
follow judgment"
But here she can know no other
guide"
"I once would have said the same
"And what has changed your opin-
ion?"
Experience"
The speakers manner was visibly
agitated, and we waited in silence the
explanation which he seemed ready
to give.
Mastering his emotion, as II to an
swer our looks of inquiry. he contin-
ued:
Twenty years ago I was a young
man just beginning life. Few had
brighter prospects and none brighter
hopes. An attachment dating from
childhood had ripened with it's object.
There had been no verbal declaration
and acceptance Of love-no formal
plighting Of troth; but when I took
nv departure to seek a home in the
distant west, it was a thing under
stood that when had found 1t and
put It in order she was to share 1t.
Life in the forest, though solitary,
Is not necessarily lonesome. The
kind Of society afforded by Nature de-
pends much on ones self. AS for me,
l lived more in the future than In the
present, and Hope was an ever-cheer-
full companion.
"At length the time came for MAX
Ing the final payment on the home
which had bought 1t would hence
forth be my own: and In a few months
my simple dwelling, which I had
spared no pains to render inviting,
would be graced by its mistress.
"At the land office. which was some
sixty miles off. I met my old friend,
George c. He, too. had come to seek
his fortune in the west, and we were
both delighted at the meeting. He
had brought with him, he said, sum
of money which he desired to invest
in land, on which it was his purpose
to settle.
"I expressed a strong wish to have
him for a neighbor, and gave him a
cordial invitation to accompany me
home, giving 1t as my belief that he
could nowhere make a better selec-
ton than in that vicinity. He read
ily consented, and we set out together.
We had not ridden many miles when
George suddenly recollected a COM
mission he had undertaken from a
friend, which would require his at
tendance at a public land sale on the
following day. Exacting a promise
that he would not delay his visit long
er than was necessary, and having
given minute directions as to the
route, I continued my way homeward.
while he turned back. I was about
retiring to bed on the night Of my re-
turn, when a summons from without
called me to the door A stranger ask
ed shelter for himself and his horse
for the night l invited him In.
Though a stranger, his face seemed
not unfamiliar He was probably one
of the men had seen at the land Of
flee, a place, at that time, much fire.
quented. Offering him a seat I went
to see his horse. The poor animal, as
we'll as I could see by the dim star
light, seemed to have been hardly
used. His painting sides bore witness
of merciless riding, and a tremulous
shrinking, at the slightest touch. be-
tokened fright.
ION re-entering the house, l found
the stranger was not there. His alb
sence excited no surprise; he would
doubtless soon return. It was little
singular. however. that he should
have left his watch lying upon the
table.
AT the end of half an hour, my
guest not returning, I went out again
to the stable. thinking he might have
found his way thither to give person
al attention to the wants Of his horse.
Before going out. from mere force
Of habit-for we were not yet infested
by either thieves or policemen-I took
the precaution Of putting the strang-
er's watch in drawer in which kept
my own valuables / found the horse
&c bad loft him and gave him the