Three days, long and anxious ones for me, went by before I was accorded a hearing in the Hall of Justice. So Too made great efforts to amuse me and turn my thoughts away from the poor innocent captive. But all in vain. Those dark, lustrous eyes were always fixed upon me. Day and night, they kept repeating the same question: “Dear little master what does it all mean? I know you will not desert me, but why must I be so long separated from you?”
At last the long-wished for hour arrived. I was escorted to the Hall of Justice by a band of So Too’s retainers. A seat was assigned me in front of the platform, which the judge and his suite were to occupy. The vast chamber was crowded with clerks, officers, gong-beaters, accused and accusers; but a deep silence rested upon them all. As I walked to my seat a subdued murmur ran over the multitude, for Bulger’s case was in every one’s mouth; and I could see that my youthful appearance excited great surprise.
Suddenly a beating of gongs announced the arrival of the judge.
Keen Chop entered the Hall of Justice with a majestic tread and solemn air, partly the effect of a pair of huge spectacles which were held astride his nose by heavy silken cords and tassels passed over his ears. He was followed by a vast array of clerks, servants and attendants. There were ink-bearers and pen-bearers; there were fan-bearers and book-bearers; there were foot-rubbers to chafe his feet in case they got asleep from long sitting; there were nose-ticklers armed with long feathers, whose office it was to arouse Keen Chop should he drop off into too long a nap; there were eraser-bearers whose duty it was to blot out from the tablets all the judge had said when he resolved to change his mind. “Let the vile, miserable, wretched accused be brought into the august presence of Keen Chop, the just judge!” cried one of the Court officers, in a loud voice.
After a few moments’ delay, the wicker hamper which contained my faithful Bulger, was carried into the chamber through a side entrance, set down in front of the judge and Bulger lifted gently therefrom and placed on a table at my side. The silver manacles were still attached to his feet. My heart stood motionless as I heard the rattling of the chains which ran from leg to leg. I had steeled myself to appear calm; but in spite of my efforts, the tears trickled down my cheeks. Bulger gave a start as his dark, lustrous eyes fell upon me and he uttered a long, low whine as if to ask: “What does all this mean, dear, little master?” And then he raised his right paw as high as the chain would permit, and held it out for me to shake—as was his custom when craving forgiveness for some mischievous act which had displeased me.
I pressed the outstretched paw long and tenderly.
“Doth the prisoner confess his guilt and humbly beg for mercy at our hands” inquired Keen Chop turning his huge eye glasses full upon Bulger. Whether it was the disagreeably shrill and creaking tone of the judge’s voice or the glitter of the large glass discs set in front of his eyes, which displeased Bulger, I know not; certain it is he made answer for himself with a single loud and angry bark. Keen Chop was so startled that he dropped his smelling salts and motioned to his fan-bearers to cool his heated face.
“Silence!” roared one of the gong-beaters, giving a deafening thump upon his gong to inspire respect; and, at the same time fiercely agitating his bristling eye-brows and mustachios.
“My lord judge,” said I performing the kowtow, “I crave consent to speak for the prisoner. He is not guilty of witchcraft. Nor doth any manner or kind of evil spirit dwell within his body. He is a true and faithful servant and companion of mine; perchance, with somewhat more than the usual intelligence of his kind. As his defender I call for the proofs of this most unmerited accusation!”
Keen Chop now fell asleep. But, after a few moments, his nose-tickler succeeded in arousing him.