And with his own hand he wrote on the cover of the bundle of papers relating to Prosper’s case, the number of the package, File No. 113.
VII
Prosper had been languishing in his private cell for nine days, when on Thursday morning the jailer came to inform him of the judge’s decision. He was conducted before the officer who had searched him when he was arrested; and the contents of his pocket, his watch, penknife, and several little pieces of jewelry, were restored to him; then he was told to sign a large sheet of paper, which he did.
He was next led across a dark passage, and almost pushed through a door, which was abruptly shut upon him.
He found himself on the quay: he was alone; he was free.
Free! Justice had confessed her inability to convict him of the crime of which he was accused.
Free! He could walk about, he could breathe the pure air; but every door would be closed against him.
Only acquittal after due trial would restore him to his former position among men.
A decision of “Not proven” had left him covered with suspicion.