Bucholz had engaged the services of three lawyers—General Smith, who had acquired considerable fame as an attorney; Mr. Bollman, who had been connected with the case from its inception, and Mr. Alfred E. Austin, a young member of the bar, who resided at Norwalk.
The sheriff entered with his prisoner, and placed him in the dock, to plead to the indictment that was to be read to him, and upon which he was to be placed upon trial for his life.
He entered with the same careless, jaunty air which had marked his first appearance at South Norwalk, and except for a certain nervousness in his manner and a restless wandering of the eager glance which he cast around him, no one would have imagined that he stood upon the eve of a trying ordeal that was to result either in sending him to the gallows or in striking from his wrists the shackles that encircled them, and sending him out into the world a free man.
He was dressed with scrupulous neatness, and had evidently taken great care in preparing himself for the trial. He wore a new suit of clothes, of neat pattern and of modern style, and his linen was of spotless whiteness and carefully arranged. As he entered and took his seat a suppressed murmur of surprise, not unmixed with sympathy, pervaded the court-room.
The hall was crowded, and a large number of ladies, attracted, perhaps, by that element of curiosity which is inherent in the sex, and perhaps by that quality of sympathy for which they are remarkable, were present, and Bucholz at once became the focus of all eyes and the subject of universal comment and conversation.
From the nature of the charge against him many had expected to see some ferocious-looking ruffian, whose countenance would portray the evidence of his crime, and whose appearance would indicate the certainty of his guilt. Their surprise was therefore unbounded, when, instead of the monster their imaginations had conjured up, they beheld the young, well-dressed and good-looking German who appeared before them, and a strong feeling of sympathy for the unfortunate man was manifested by a majority of those present.
Considerable difficulty was experienced in securing a jury, but at length the requisite number were obtained, and Bucholz was directed to stand up and listen to the charge that had been preferred against him.
A profound silence pervaded the court-room as the indictment was being read. The prisoner paid the strictest attention as the words were pronounced:—
"How say you, prisoner at the bar; are you guilty or not guilty?" and he answered in a firm voice: "Not guilty!"
The attorneys eagerly scanned the faces of the "twelve good men and true," into whose hands was soon to be confided the fate of the man who stood before them; but their impassive countenances gave no indication of the thoughts which occupied their minds. They had been chosen for the performance of a solemn duty, and were evidently prepared to perform it without fear or favor.