Part 10 (2/2)
Mr. Plummer sighed, as if in sorrow. He turned to the others, as if desiring their forgiveness for the captain.
”This gentleman--I trust he will pardon me for saying so--puts a curb upon his natural generosity. His is what we may, perhaps, term the military mind--precise, and, if we may say so, just a little--the merest atom--hard. For my part I think, Mr. Foreman, we might, as Christian men, conscientiously return a negative finding, intimating at the same time that, owing to the prisoner's tender years, we are not unwilling to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
The captain dissented.
”What sort of mind do you call yours, sir? Were we to return such a verdict, we should make of ourselves the laughing-stock of England.”
The foreman shook his head.
”I hardly think England will interest itself in our proceedings to that extent. Similar verdicts in similar cases are, I imagine, more common than you may suppose. I am not advocating such a course, but I believe it would be logically possible for us to inform the magistrates that, while some of us entertain strong opinions on the subject of the prisoner's guilt, being desirous to arrive at a state of agreement, and also bearing in mind the youth of the accused, we are willing to acquiesce in a verdict of acquittal.”
”I agree to that,” cried Mr. Longsett. ”That's fair enough. Now, is it all settled?”
”I'm not.”
The speaker was the captain. All eyes were turned on him.
The foreman spoke.
”Don't you think, captain, you--might swallow a gnat?”
”I don't wish to set myself up as a superior person, but, under the circ.u.mstances, I'm afraid I can't.”
”Quite so. Now we know where we are.” Mr. Longsett composed himself in his chair; planting his hands against his sides he stuck out his elbows; he screwed up his mouth. ”It just shows you how one man can play skittles with eleven others.”
The captain was silently contemptuous.
”I really doubt if it matters.” It was Mr. Moss who said it; he whispered an addition into the captain's ear: ”If the young scamp isn't hung to-day he'll be hung to-morrow.”
The captain ignored the whisper; his reply was uttered with sufficient clearness.
”Perhaps, sir, your sense of duty is not a high one.”
The eleven eyed each other, and the table, and vacancy; a spirit of depression seemed to be settling down upon them all. Old Parkes, with elongated visage, addressed a melancholy inquiry to no one in particular. ”What's us sitting here for?”
Jacob responded--”That's what I should like to know, George. Perhaps it's because a gentleman's made up his mind to ruin a poor young lad for life.”
The captain took up the gauntlet.
”I presume it is useless for me to point out to you that your statement is as incorrect as it is unjustified. I have heard a good deal about the absurdities of the jury system. I may tell you, sir, that you have presented me with an object-lesson which will last me the rest of my life. It occurs to me as just possible that the sooner the system is reformed the better.”
”Ah! I daresay it would. Then gentlemen like you would be able to grind poor lads under your feet whenever it suited you. Oh, dear, no!
You think yourself somebody, don't you, captain?”
Captain Rudd looked as if he would if he could; in his eyes there gleamed something very like a foreshadowing of a.s.sault and battery.
The foreman made a little movement with his hands, which, possibly, was intended to be a counsel of peace. Anyhow, the captain allowed the last word to be Jacob's. Mr. Tyler, his handkerchief still pressed to his ear, appealed to the captain in a tone of voice which was almost tearful.
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