Judges—may the boy speak?
Speak? speak? to be sure he may, muttered old Mr. Wait Winthrop, addressing himself to a preacher who sat near with a large Bible outspread upon his knees. What say you? what say you Brother Willard, what says the Book?—no harm there, I hope; what can he have to say though, (wiping his eyes) what can such a lad have to say? What say you major Gidney; what say you—(half sobbing) dreadful affair this, dreadful affair; what can he possibly have to say?
Not much, I am afraid, replied Burroughs, not very much; but enough I hope and believe, to shake your trust in the chief accuser. Robert Eveleth—here—this way—shall the boy be sworn, Sir?
Sworn—sworn?—to be sure—why not? very odd though—very—very—swear the boy—very odd, I confess—never saw a likelier boy of his age—how old is he?
Thirteen Sir—
Very—very—of his height, I should say—what can he know of the matter though? what can such a boy know of—of—however—we shall see—is the boy sworn?—there, there—
The boy stepped forth as the kind-hearted old man—too kind-hearted for a judge—concluded his perplexing soliloquy, one part of which was given out with a very decided air, while another was uttered with a look of pitiable indecision—stepped forth and lifted up his right hand according to the law of that people, with his large grey eyes lighted up and his fine yellow hair blowing about his head like a glory, and swore by the Everlasting God, the Searcher of Hearts, to speak the truth.
Every eye was riveted upon him, for he stood high upon a sort of stage, in full view of everybody, and face to face to all who had sworn to the spectre-knife, and his beauty was terrible.
Stand back, stand back ... what does that child do there? said another of the judges, pointing to a poor little creature with a pale anxious face and very black hair, who had crept close up to the side of Robert Eveleth, and sat there with her eyes lifted to his, and her sweet lips apart, as if she were holding her breath.
Why, what are you afeard of now, Bridgee Pope? said another voice. Get away from the boy’s feet, will you ... why don’t you move? ... do you hear me?