"May the Lord, then, have mercy on my soul!" exclaimed the prisoner solemnly. Then glancing at the bench and jury-box, he added, "And you, my lord and gentlemen, work your will with my body as quickly as you may: I am a lost man!"
The calling of witnesses to character, the opening of the judge's charge, pointing from its first sentence to a conviction, elicited no further manifestation of feeling from the prisoner: he was as calm as despair.
The judge had been speaking for perhaps ten minutes, when a bustle was heard at the hall, as if persons were striving to force their way into the body of the court in spite of the resistance of the officers.
"Who is that disturbing the court?" demanded the judge angrily.
"For the love of Heaven let me pass!" we heard uttered in passionate tones by a female voice. "I must and will see the judge!"
"Who can this be?" T inquired, addressing Mr. Symonds.
"I cannot conceive," he replied; "surely not Mrs. Burton?"
I had kept my eye, as I spoke, upon Hornby, and noticed that he exhibited extraordinary emotion at the sound of the voice, to whomsoever it belonged, and was now endeavoring to force his way through the crowded and anxious auditory.
"My lord," said I, "I have to request on the part of the prisoner that the person desirous of admittance may be heard."
"What has she to say? Or if a material witness, why have you not called her at the proper time?" replied his lordship with some irritation.