“Place it high, Judge,” said the Pilot. “We’ve come prepared for that. We’ve come prepared with seven thousand.”
“Really, this is most irregular,” complained the Judge, his finger marking the place on the page from which he was reading. “The—ah—object of bail, that is the amount of bail should be sufficient to secure the appearance of the accused to answer the charge.” He had found his place, and read on determinedly, “‘And it may be remarked here, that it is not the practice in England, under any circumstances, to take bail on charges of murder.’”
“Jus’ so, Judge,” said the Pilot. “Jus’ so. It’s not the custom in England. That’s as I should ha’ thought. But here, where murders don’t occur every day, you may grant it if you like. That’s as I thought, just as I thought. What’s your opinion, Cap’n Sartoris?”
“Same here,” said Sartoris, tapping his chest. “I’m with you, Pilot; with you on every point.”
“Theoretically, that is so,” said the Judge, “but practically, how are you going to assess bail for a man who is to be tried for his life? What amount of money will guarantee his reappearance? Why, no sum, however great.”
The Judge shut his book with a snap, and set his mouth firmly as one who had made up his mind.
“This young man,” he continued, “whom I knew and respected as well as you yourselves, has been accused of most serious crimes. He is said, with the aid of other persons at present at large, to have murdered the members of a gold-escort and to have stolen gold to the value of something like twenty thousand pounds.”
The two seamen stood attentively, with their eyes fixed earnestly on the Judge, whilst Rose covered her face with her hands.
“Besides which,”—the Judge had now regained his judicial composure, and his words flowed smoothly, as though he were on the bench—“we must remember that the accused is reputed to be a wealthy man. Supposing him to have augmented his means by murder and malpractice, what would ten, twenty or even thirty thousand pounds be to him in comparison with his life? That is the question. There can be no guarantee of his reappearance. Bail is impossible. But I will do this: I will extend you the privilege—seeing your affection for this man, who, for your sakes as well as his own, I hope may be acquitted—I will allow you leave to visit him on certain days, between the hours of 10 a.m. and 12 noon, and I will write an order to that effect.”
He looked at Jack’s sympathisers, who remained dumb. Dipping his pen in the ink, he asked them their names in full, and wrote.