When they returned John Graham, in whose veins flowed the blood of a race of world-conquering men, entitled to a trial by a jury of his peers, rose with quiet dignity and heard the verdict of his condemnation fall from the thick protruding lips of a flat-nosed Negro:
“We finds de prisoner guilty!”
“So say you all gentlemen?” asked the clerk.
And in response each black spindle-shanked juror shambled to his feet and answered:
“Guilty!”
The last name called was the little white Scalawag’s, whose weak voice squeaked an echo:
“Guilty.”
The Judge imposed a fine of one thousand dollars and sentenced John Graham to five years imprisonment at hard labour in the United States penitentiary at Albany, New York.
A low moan from Stella, and her head sank in voiceless anguish.
To the brave and the proud there are visions darker than death.