“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty.”
The judge looked down at Joe, who had turned to his mother, smiling through his tears.
“You are free, God bless you!” said he.
When a judge says so much more upon the bench than precedent, form, and custom prescribe for him to say; when he puts down the hard mask of the law and discovers his human face behind it, and his human heart moving his warm, human blood; when a judge on the bench does that, what can be expected of the unsanctified mob in front of him?
It was said by many that Captain Taylor led the applause himself, but there were others who claimed that distinction for Colonel Price. No matter.
While the house did not rise as one man–for in every house there are old joints and young ones, which do not unlimber with the same degree of alacrity, no matter what the incitement–it got to its feet in surprising order, with a great tossing of arms and waving of hats and coats. In the midst of this glad turmoil stood Uncle Posen Spratt, head and shoulders above the crowd, mounted on a bench, his steer’s horn ear-trumpet to his whiskered lips, like an Israelitish priest, blowing his famous fox-hound blast, which had been heard five miles on a still autumn night.
Less than half an hour before, the public would have attended Joe Newbolt’s hanging with all the pleasurable and satisfactory thrills which men draw from such melancholy events. Now it was clamoring to lift him to its shoulders and bear him in triumph through the town.
Judge Maxwell smiled, and adjourned court, which order nobody but his clerk heard, and let them have their noisy way. When the people saw him come down from the bench 335 they quieted, not understanding his purpose; and when he reached out his hand to Joe, who rose to meet him, silence settled over the house. Judge Maxwell put his arm around Joe’s shoulder in fatherly way while he shook hands with Mrs. Newbolt. What he said, nobody but those within the bar heard, but he gave Joe’s back an expressive slap of approval as he turned to the prosecuting attorney.
People rushed forward with the suddenness of water released, to shake hands with Joe when they understood that the court was in adjournment. They crowded inside the rail, almost overwhelming him, exclaiming in loud terms of admiration, addressing him familiarly, to his excessive embarrassment, pressing upon him their assurances that they knew, all the time, that he didn’t do it, and that he would come out of it with head and tail both up, as he had come through.
Men who would have passed him yesterday without a second thought, and who would no more have given their hands to him on the footing of equality–unless they had chanced to be running for office–than they would have thrust them into the fire, now stood there smiling and jostling and waiting their turns to reach him, all of them chattering and mouthing and nodding heads until one would have thought that each of them was a prophet, and had predicted this very thing.