Shortly before six the jury retired. They were out fifteen minutes and brought in the following verdict: "We, the jury, agree and find the defendant guilty and fix his punishment at three years in the State penitentiary. Elhannon Howard, Foreman."
When the verdict was read, the face of the squire turned red with surprise. Saylor's face for the first time assumed a serious expression; Mrs. Saylor burst into tears; Susie cried aloud and hung to her father's arm; Mary grew as pale as death and her body shook as from intense cold.
Cornwall, who had come into the court room during the squire's argument and who, after bowing to Mary and Mrs. Saylor, had taken a seat behind them, came forward.
"Never mind, Mary, we shall find a way to get him off. Let me go with you and your mother to where you are stopping. I tried to find you last night."
The sheriff came forward and, taking Saylor by the arm, said: "Come on, Mr. Saylor."
The woman kissed the condemned man a hasty farewell. He and the sheriff went out one door toward the jail; the Saylor family and Cornwall another, walking up the street to old Pineville, to the home of Mary's aunt.
In the morning Mary and her mother came by the court house and asked Cornwall to go with them to the jail, as that afternoon they had to return home.
It was a sad group that gathered in the little jail parlor, while the jailer stood at the door.
"Well, young man, I guess you know more law than me or old Putman. I seem to be in bad because I did not take your view and advice, instead of hiring that cheap lawyer. We had only Mary's money; I did not want to sell or mortgage our home, and if I had not killed Simpson, he would have got me shore."
"You may have a chance, Mr. Saylor, with the Court of Appeals. I do not think the court should have excluded Simpson's dying declaration; it seemed relevant."