He will sit down, but they cannot quench the fires of his soul; they may deny him the commonest right of his manhood, but they cannot take from him the knowledge that God gave him those rights; they may mock with derision the firm mien with which he disputes the power of his oppressors, and their unjust laws, but they cannot make him less than a man in his own feelings!
His honour, squire Fetter, reminds him that it were better he said nothing, sit down,—or be punished instanter. Turning to Felsh, who is sipping his quencher, he enquires what that gentleman means to prove by the witness Toby?
"His intention to raise an insurrection, yer honour!" Felsh, setting his glass aside, quickly responds, wiping his lips as he adds, "It is essentially necessary, yer honour!"
His honour, leaning forward, places the fore-finger of his right hand to his lip, and making a very learned gesture, says, "Toby has said enough to establish that point."
The next witness is Mr. Brien Calligan, a criminal in the prison, who for his good behaviour has been promoted to the honourable post of under-warden. Mr. Brien Calligan testifies that the prisoner, while in prison, confined in a cell under his supervision, admitted that he intended to kill Mr. Monsel when he inflicted the wound. He must qualify this statement, however, by saying that the prisoner added he was altogether beside himself with rage.
Grabguy, who has been intently watching the proceedings, suddenly springs to his feet. He would like to know if that admission was not extorted from the culprit by cruelty!
Mr. Brien Calligan pauses a moment, looks innocently at the court, as one of the jurors suggests that quite enough evidence has already been put in to warrant a conviction. It's a pity to hang such valuable property; but, being bent on disturbing the peace of the community, what else can be done?
His honour listens with great concern to the juror's remarks, but suggests that Mr. Grabguy had better not interrupt the court with questions. That he has an indirect interest in the issue of the suit, not a doubt exists, but if he be not satisfied with the witness's statement, he has his remedy in the court of appeals, where, upon the ground of testimony having been elicited by coercion or cruelty, a new trial will probably be granted.
Mr. Grabguy would merely suggest to his honour that although sentencing a negro to be hung may be a matter of small consequence to him, yet his position in society gives him a right to be heard with proper respect. Aware that he does not move in that exclusively aristocratic sphere of society awarded to lawyers in general, he is no less entitled to respect, and being a man of honour, and an alderman as well, he shall always insist on that respect.
"Order, order!" demand a dozen voices. His honour's face flashing with indignation, he seizes the statutes, and rising to his feet, is about to throw them with unerring aim at the unhandsome head of the municipal functionary. A commotion here ensues. Felsh is esteemed not a bad fighting man; and rising almost simultaneously, his face like a full moon peeping through a rain cloud, attempts to pacify his colleague, Fetter. The court is foaming with excitement; Mr. Felsh is excited, the jury are excited to take a little more drink, the constables are excited, the audience are excited to amusement; Messrs. Fetter and Felsh's court rocks with excitement: the only unexcited person present is the criminal, who looks calmly on, as if contemplating with horror the debased condition of those in whose hands an unjust law has placed his life.