CHAPTER VIII.
What should I say? replied Burroughs. What would you have me say? standing up and growing very pale. What would you have me say, you that are of counsel for the prisoner, you! the judges of the court? You that appear to rejoice when you see the last hope of the prisoner about to be made of no value to her, by the trick and subterfuge of the law. Why do you not speak to her?—Why do you not advise me? You know that I depend upon the reply—You know that I have no other hope, and that she has no other hope, and yet you leave us both to be destroyed by the stratagem of an adversary. How shall I proceed? Speak to me, I entreat you! Speak to me judges! Do not leave me to grope out a path blind-folded over a precipice—a path which it would require great skill to tread—O, I beseech you! do not leave me thus under the awful, the tremendous accountability, which, in my ignorance of the law, I have been desperate enough to undertake!—Here by my side are two men of the law—yet have you assigned her, in a matter of life and death, no counsel. They are afraid I see—afraid not only to rise up and speak for the wretched woman, but they are afraid even to whisper to me. And you, ye judges! are you also on the side of the prosecutor and the witnesses—are you all for the king?—all!—all!—not so much as one to say a word for the poor creature, who being pursued for the king, is treated as if she were pursued by the king—pursued by him for sacrifice! What! no answer—not a word! What am I to believe? ... that you take pride in the exercise of your terrible power? that you look upon it as a privilege? ... that you regard me now with displeasure ... that if you could have your own way, you would permit no interference with your frightful prerogative?... O that I knew in what way to approach the hearts of men! O that I knew how to proceed in this affair! Will nobody advise me!
Sir—Sir!—allow me, said a man of the law who sat near, allow me Sir; I can bear it no longer—it is a reproach to the very name of law—but—but (lowering his voice) if you will suffer me to suggest a step or two for your consideration—you have the courage and the power—I have not—my brethren here have not—you have—and you may perhaps be able to—hush, hush—to bring her off.
Speak out, Sir—speak out, I beseech you. What am I to do?
Lower if you please—lower—low——er—er—er—we must not be overheard—Brother Trap’s got a quick ear. Now my notion is—allow me—(whispering) the jury are on the watch; they have heard you with great anxiety—and great pleasure—if you can manage to keep the hold you have got for half an hour—hush—hush—no matter how—the poor soul may escape yet—
I’ll address the jury—
By no manner of means! That will not be suffered—you cannot address the jury—
Good God! what shall I do!
Thirteen-pence more—carry five—paid to watchman.
I’ll put you in the way (with a waggish leer.) Though you are not allowed to address the jury, you are allowed to address the court—hey?—(chucking him with his elbow)—the court you see—hey—sh!—sh!—you understand it—hey?