When the assistant prosecutor had proved to everyone that Mr. Sidor was guilty and should be convicted, and when he had wrapped it all up by saying, “The prosecution rests,” the defense lawyer stood up. Everyone listened carefully. There was total silence in the hall. The lawyer started talking—and the nerves of the people of the Town of N. were shattered. The lawyer stretched out his sunburned neck, moved his head from side to side, flashed his eyes, lifted his hand, and poured his sweet, magical speech into the listeners’ eager ears.
His tongue played on the people’s nerves as if on the strings of a balalaika. After the first two or three phrases, someone in the gallery heaved a deep sigh; then an unconscious lad was carried out of the courtroom. Three minutes later, the judge had to reach for the bell and ring it three times. The bailiff, a man with a small red nose, began shifting nervously in his chair and looking threateningly at the gallery. All eyes were open wide; all faces grew pale; everyone expected something unusual from the lawyer. And what happened in the people’s hearts?
“We are all human beings, members of the jury, so let us make this a human courtroom,” the lawyer said, among other things. “Before facing you this day, this man suffered six months of prison time, during the investigation. For six straight months, his wife has been separated from her most beloved husband. His children’s eyes haven’t dried for a moment as they thought that they didn’t have their beloved father with them. Oh, if only you could see the children! They’re hungry because there’s no one to feed them, and they’re in tears because they’re miserable. Just look at them! They’re stretching their hands out to you, imploring you to give them back their father. They’re not here, but you can imagine the picture. (A pause.) Prison? Him? He was put into a cell with thieves, and with murderers. Him! (A pause.) You can imagine his moral suffering in that cell, when he was separated from his wife and children, just in order to—what else can I say?”
Sobs were heard in the audience. A young woman wearing a large brooch on her bosom started to wail. Her neighbor, a little old lady, joined her.
The defense lawyer went on with his speech. He omitted the facts and emphasized the psychology.
“To study this man’s soul means to study a rare and protected world, full of subtleties. And I have studied this world. And I must tell you truly that in studying it, I came to know a human being. I genuinely understood this human being. Each movement of his soul tells me that, in my client, I have an ideal man.”
The bailiff stopped looking threatening and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Two more women were carried out of the hall. The judge did not touch the bell anymore, but put on his eyeglasses, so that no one could see the tear in his right eye. Everyone pulled out handkerchiefs. The prosecutor himself, the man of stone and ice, the insensitive beast, was shifting nervously in his chair. He reddened and looked at the floor. His ears were glowing beneath his eyeglasses.
“I shouldn’t have taken this case at all; I should drop the charges right now,” he thought. “I’m going to be utterly defeated. What next?”
“Just look into his eyes,” the defense lawyer continued. His chin trembled; his voice trembled also, and his suffering was clear in his eyes. “Do you think those tender, humble eyes could look upon a crime in cold blood, without any feelings? No, those eyes can cry; they can shed tears. A very sensitive disposition is hidden underneath that rough, rugged, square-jawed face. A tender heart, not a criminal’s, but a human being’s, beats beneath that rough, crippled chest. And you would dare call him guilty?”
At this point, the accused could stand it all no longer. He burst into tears. He blinked, cried aloud, and shifted in his place.
“I am guilty!” he said, interrupting the defense attorney. “I am guilty! I accept my guilt completely. I stole, and I defrauded, and I lied.
“I took the money from the chest, and I brought the stolen fur coat to my sister-in-law, and I asked her to hide it. I confess. I’m guilty.”
He told the court everything. And so he was convicted and sentenced.
THE BROTHER: A SLICE OF LIFE
A young woman was standing in front of the window, lost in thought, looking at the dirty sidewalk. A young man dressed in the official uniform of a civil servant was standing behind her. He was touching his mustache and speaking in a trembling voice.
“My dear sister, do me this favor! It is not too late yet! You have to say no to this fat merchant, this wealthy pig. Please do me a favor and bid good-bye to this fat man. Please do me a favor!”
“I cannot, brother. I gave him my promise.”
“I ask you, listen, and be good to our family! You belong to nobility; you are a well-educated, noble lady, but who is he? He is rude and illiterate, you understand? He sells old, smelly fish and kvass in the market. He cheats people. Yesterday you gave him your consent to marry him, and this morning he stole five kopecks from our servant. He robs people! And what about your old dreams? Oh, my God! Listen, I know that you love Michael from our department, and that he loves you, too.”
The sister blushed. Her chin was trembling; her eyes were filled with tears. It was obvious that the brother had hit a sore spot.
“Sister, do you wish to destroy both of you, Michael as well? He has started drinking! Sister, all you ever want is money and jewelry. All you ever do is calculate how to make a profit from your marriage. But this is appalling. How can you marry an illiterate? He cannot even sign his name. Look, Ne-ko-lan instead of Nikolai. He is old, he is revolting, and he looks very clumsy. Please do me this favor!”
The brother’s voice started trembling. He cleared his throat and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“But I gave him my word of honor, brother. And besides, I hate our poverty.”
“I will tell you everything,” said the brother, “if you want to hear it. I did not want to tell you this before, but now I will. I would rather lower myself in your eyes than lose my sister completely. I know a secret about your merchant. Listen, Cathie, if you find out his secret, you will say no at once…. I saw him in a terrible place. Do you want to know which place? Do you?”
“Where was it? Where?”
The brother opened his mouth to answer, but he was stopped. At that moment, a man came in. He wore a vest and dirty boots, and carried a large paper bag. He crossed himself and stood in the door.
“Dmitry Terentievich said to say hello to you, and he wanted to give you a small gift because today is Sunday: And he asked me to deliver this and to put it directly into your hands.”
The brother took the paper bag, looked at it, and smirked in disgust. “What is in it? Hmm, some stupid thing! A head of sugar.”
The brother took the sugar in his hands and tapped it with his fingernail. “I wonder what kind of sugar this is? Ha! Bobrinsky—not bad for tea. What’s this in the bag? Some garbage or other: sardines, raisins and cheese. He—he wants to bribe me! No, my friend, you cannot do a thing! Why did he put coffee in here? I cannot drink coffee—it shatters my nerves! All right, go away, go! And say hello to him!”
The delivery man left. The sister ran to the brother and caught him by the hand.
The brother had moved her with his words. One more word, and the merchant would be ruined.
“Tell me, brother, where did you see him? Tell me!”
“Nowhere, I was just kidding. You can do whatever you want,” said the brother, and tapped the head of sugar with his fingernail once again.
A CONFESSION
It was a clear, frosty, sunny day. I felt as euphoric as a cabman who just received a ten-ruble tip instead of a quarter. I wanted to cry with happiness, to smile, and to pray. I was in seventh heaven. Me, an ordinary man, to be a cashier! I was delighted because now I could steal as much money as I wanted. I’m not a thief, and I would kill anyone who called me one. But I was happy about my promotion because I had made another tiny step in my career and a small addition to my wages. That’s all.