CHAPTER V.
HE IS TRIED IN THE BALANCE.
There was a pause in the little court-room when the formal proclamations of the crier and clerk were ended.
"Are you guilty or not guilty, Robert Floyd?"
He bore the scrutiny of many hundred eyes calmly. Earnestness must have been the usual expression of his face, but today its flashing eyes and curled upper lip controlled the aquiline features and made their dominant aspect one of defiance.
He was olive-skinned, as his uncle may have been in his youth. His hair was dark. Spots of dark red were burning in his cheek, and his voice, when he spoke, of a rich contralto quality, had some subtle affiliation with darkness, too. Altogether a Roman soul, the unprejudiced observer would have said, but somewhat lacking in the blitheness which is proper to youth.
"Not guilty," the answer was recorded.
The spectators listened in a strained and oppressive silence. Within the bar sat old John Davidson, looking very sympathetic and not a little perplexed as he reared his chair back against the railing. Through the open door of an ante-room peeped the chubby form of Inspector McCausland, cordially shaking hands with acquaintances and answering to the sobriquet of "Dick." For professional reasons the inspector avoided making his person known to the multitude, but once or twice he sent in messages to the district attorney, and finally stepping to the door, caught his eye and beckoned him outside. Noah Bigelow had been sitting silently at the prosecutor's desk, his prodigious black beard sweeping his breast and his tufted eyebrows leveled steadily at the prisoner, as if to read his soul. When he rose at McCausland's signal the entire court-room followed his broad back receding through the door of the chamber.
"The prisoner," said the judge, "declines the advice of counsel and offers himself for examination unaided. He is hereby warned of his right under the law to challenge any question which may incriminate or tend to incriminate him. The court will see that this right is protected. We are ready for the evidence."
"Miss Bertha Lund," called Badger. She arose, the same tidy, buxom maiden as ever, but pale and with traces of tears. An oath was administered and the young woman motioned to the witness-box.