“You think, then, it will do her damage?”
“To the extent of her neck. Eve, before she touched the apple, could not have been acquitted in the face of such a rumour. I look upon your client as a lost woman, ’Squire Timms.”[Timms.”]
“Does that seem to be the common sentiment—that is, so far as you can judge?”
“Among the jurors it does.”
“The jurors!” exclaimed Dunscomb—“what can you possibly know of the opinions of the jurors, Mr. Johnson?”
A cold smile passed over the man’s face, and he looked steadily at Timms, as if to catch a clue that might conduct him safely through the difficulties of his case. A frown that was plain enough to the agent, though admirably concealed from all others in the room, told him to be cautious.
“I only know what I see and hear. Jurors are men, and other men can sometimes get an insight into their feelings, without running counter to law. I heard the rumour related myself, in the presence of seven of the panel. It’s true, nothing was said of the murder, or the arson; but such a history of the previous life of the accused was given as Lady Washington couldn’t have stood up ag’in, had she been livin’, and on trial for her life.”
“Was anything said of insanity?” asked Dunscomb.
“Ah, that plea will do no good, now-a-days; it’s worn out. They’d hang a murderer from Bedlam. Insanity has been overdone, and can’t be depended on any longer.”
“Was anything said on the subject?” repeated the counsellor.