“More’s the pity, for they need it, an’ the Coort was too tinder wi’ them intirely. Two weeks! why, two months would do them more good. Anyhow, see that ye give them a fearful blowin’ up.”
“I’ll do what I can for them,” returned Pina, with a pleasant laugh, as she rose and passed into the Audience Hall, where the prisoners and as many of the settlers as could find room were already gathered.
Here a slight change of feeling seemed to have taken place in the people. Perhaps the sight of Hugh and Malines—two men who had, up till that time, carried matters with rather a high hand—bound, humbled, helpless, and with bits of straw which had been given them as bedding sticking to their garments, induced a touch of pity. At all events, there was none of that riotous demand for vengeance which had characterised them when under the influence of excitement at the trial. Evidently a slight reaction in favour of the culprits had set in, and the entrance of the queen, therefore, took place in solemn silence, no one knowing why she had sent for the men or what were her intentions. Poor Pauline was much embarrassed by the silence and by the situation in which she found herself. Being a girl of mind, and not a mere human machine made and content to run always on beaten paths, she had resolved to try an experiment, and braced herself to the duty.
It was by no means a new experiment; on the contrary, it was older than this world’s history, though new to Pauline in the particular circumstances—being an application of the law of mercy.
“My friends,” said Pina, in a somewhat tremulous voice, which however became firmer as she proceeded, “this is the first trial that has taken place in our little colony, and as crime must be firmly repressed—”
(“Punished, my dear—putt it stronger!” came in a whisper from the side door, where widow Lynch was listening; but, fortunately, none of the audience heard her.)
“I feel,” continued Pauline, taking no notice of the advice, “that it becomes me, as your chosen queen, to do what I think will be best for the interests of the community.”
“Hear, hear!” exclaimed some of the audience; but they gave no further expression to their feelings, being still uncertain as to the queen’s leanings.
“No doubt,” continued Pina, trying, not quite successfully, to swallow the lump in her throat, “the punishment which you have awarded these men is in strict accordance with your ideas of justice, and, being utterly ignorant of law, I will not presume to doubt the wisdom of your decision; nor would I interfere, either by increasing or decreasing the punishment, did I not feel that this case is peculiar, very peculiar. It is, as I have said, the beginning of crime in our kingdom, and little beginnings, you all know, often lead to great results. A small leak may sink a ship. Then, in the second place, this is the first offence committed by these men, and first offences require peculiar treatment—”
(“That’s so, my dear—powerful treatment. Give it ’em hot!” inaudibly whispered the widow.)