"Humph!" he said. "All that means, I suppose, that a man may be innocent and guilty at the same time."
And then another cowardly titter ran through the court-house.
The time had come for judgment. Taubman leaned over the bench, clasped his bony fingers in front of him, and said,
"Victor Stowell, stand up."
Stowell rose, and stood with his hands interlaced, and his heavy eyes fixed steadfastly on his Judge.
"Have you anything to say why judgment should not be pronounced upon you?"
"Nothing."
It needs no skill to wound the defenceless, and for the next few minutes Taubman seemed to glory in the exercise of his power.
"Prisoner at the bar," he said, "you have confessed to the crime of breaking prison to effect the escape from custody of a young woman you had first debauched and then abandoned."
"Ha!"