He had made a powerful speech, and he knew it; but he thought of its effect only as tending to his own benefit; he had no hope for Rennie.
Mr. Summons addressed the jury on the part of the Commonwealth. He maintained that the evidence of the detective, taken in connection with all the other circumstances surrounding the case, was sufficient to have convicted the defendant, without further proof.
“But the unexpected testimony,” he declared, “of one brave and high-minded boy has placed the guilt of the prisoner beyond the shadow of a doubt; a boy whose great heart has caused him to yield to temptation for the sake of a blind brother; but whose tender conscience, whose heroic spirit, has led him to throw off the bonds which this defence has placed upon him, and, in the face of all the terrors of an order whose words are oaths of vengeance, and whose acts are deeds of blood, to fling their hated bribes at their feet, as they sat in the very court of justice; and to ‘tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,’ for the sake of his own honor and the upholding of the law.”
Warming up to his theme, and its possibilities in the way of oratorical effect, Summons brought wit to bear upon logic and logic upon law, and eloquence upon both, until, at the close of his address, the conviction of the defendant was all but certain, and Tom’s position as a hero was well assured.
Then came the charge of the court; plain, decisive, reviewing the evidence in brief, calling the attention of the jury to their duty both to the Commonwealth and to the defendant, directing them that the defendant’s guilt must be established, in their minds, beyond a reasonable doubt, before they could convict; but that, if they should reach that point, then their verdict should be simply “Guilty.”
The jury passed out of the court-room, headed by a constable, after which counsel for the defendant filed exceptions to the charge, and the court proceeded to other business.
Very few people left the court-room, as every one supposed it would not be long before the bringing in of a verdict, and they were not mistaken. It was barely half an hour from the time the jury retired until they filed back again, and resumed their seats in the jury-box.
“Gentlemen of the jury,” said the clerk of the court, rising, “have you agreed upon a verdict?”
“We have,” replied the foreman, handing a paper to a tipstaff, which he handed to the clerk; and the clerk in turn handed it to the presiding judge.
The judges, one after another, read the paper, nodded their approval, and returned it to the clerk, who glanced over its contents, and then addressed the jury as follows:—