When at length he ceased, and the jury retired, the breathless stillness continued. With some, indeed, there was the relaxation of long-strained attention, eyes unbent, and heads turned, but Flora had to pass her arm round her little sister, to steady the child’s nervous trembling; Aubrey sat rigid and upright, the throbs of his heart well-nigh audible; and Dr. May leant forward, and covered his eyes with his hand; Tom, who alone dared glance to the dock, saw that Leonard too had retired. Those were the most terrible minutes they had ever spent in their lives; but they were minutes of hope—of hope of relief from a burthen, becoming more intolerable with every second’s delay ere the rebound.
Long as it seemed to them, it was not in reality more than a quarter of an hour before the jury returned, and with slow grave movements, and serious countenances, resumed their places. Leonard was already in his; his cheek paler, his fingers locked together, and his eyes scanning each as they came forward, and one by one their names were called over. His head was erect, and his bearing had something undaunted, though intensely anxious.
The question was put by the clerk of the court, ‘How find you? Guilty or Not guilty?’
Firmly, though sadly, the foreman rose, and his answer was, ‘We find the prisoner guilty; but we earnestly recommend him to mercy.’
Whether Tom felt or not that Aubrey was in a dead faint, and rested against him as a senseless weight, he paid no visible attention to aught but one face, on which his eyes were riveted as though nothing would ever detach them—and that face was not the prisoner’s.
Others saw Leonard’s face raised upwards, and a deep red flush spread over brow and cheek, though neither lip nor eye wavered.
Then came the question whether the prisoner had anything to say, wherefore judgment should not be passed upon him.
Leonard made a step forward, and his clear steady tone did not shake for a moment as he spoke. ‘No. I see that appearances are so much against me, that man can hardly decide otherwise. I have known from the first that nothing could show my innocence but the finding of the receipt. In the absence of that one testimony, I feel that I have had a fair trial, and that all has been done for me that could be done; and I thank you for it, my Lord, and you, Gentlemen,’ as he bent his head; then added, ‘I should like to say one thing more. My Lord, you would not let the question be asked, how I brought all this upon myself. I wish to say it myself, for it is that which makes my sentence just in the sight of God. It is true that, though I never lifted my hand against my poor uncle, I did in a moment of passion fling a stone at my brother, which, but for God’s mercy, might indeed have made me a murderer. It was for this, and other like outbreaks, that I was sent to the mill; and it may be just that for it I should die—though indeed I never hurt my uncle.’
Perhaps there was something in the tone of that one word, indeed, which, by recalling his extreme youth, touched all hearts more than even the manly tone of his answer, and his confession. There was a universal weeping and sobbing throughout the court; Mrs. Pugh was on the verge of hysterics, and obliged to be supported away; and Gertrude was choking between the agony of contagious feeling and dread of Flora’s displeasure; and all the time Leonard stood calm, with his brave head and lofty bearing, wound up for the awful moment of the sentence.
The weeping was hushed, when the crier of the court made proclamation, commanding all persons on pain of imprisonment to be silent. Then the judge placed on his head the black cap, and it was with trembling hands that he did so; the blood had entirely left his face, and his lips were purple with the struggle to contend with and suppress his emotion. He paused, as though he were girding himself up to the most terrible of duties, and when he spoke his voice was hollow, as he began:
‘Leonard Axworthy Ward, you have been found guilty of a crime that would have appeared impossible in one removed from temptation by birth and education such as yours have been. What the steps may have been that led to such guilt, must lie between your own conscience and that God whose justice you have acknowledged. To Him you have evidently been taught to look; and may you use the short time that still remains to you, in seeking His forgiveness by sincere repentance. I will forward the recommendation to mercy, but it is my duty to warn you that there are no such palliating circumstances in the evidence, as to warrant any expectation of a remission of the sentence.
And therewith followed the customary form of sentence, ending with the solemn ‘And may God Almighty have mercy on your soul!’
Full and open, and never quailing, had the dark eyes been fixed upon the judge all the time; and at those last words, the head bent low, and the lips moved for ‘Amen.’
Then Tom, relieved to find instant occupation for his father, drew his attention to Aubrey’s state; and the boy between Tom and George Rivers was, as best they could, carried through the narrow outlets, and laid down in a room, opened to them by the sheriff, where his father and Flora attended him, while Tom flew for remedies; and Gertrude sobbed and wept as she had never done in her life.
It was some time before the swoon yielded, or Dr. May could leave his son, and then he was bent on at once going to the prisoner; but he was so shaken and tremulous, that Tom insisted on giving him his arm, and held an umbrella over him in the driving rain.
‘Father,’ he said, as soon as they were in the street, ‘I can swear who did it.’
Dr. May just hindered himself from uttering the name, but Tom answered as if it had been spoken.
‘Yes. I saw the face of fiendish barbarity that once was over me, when I was a miserable little schoolboy! He did it; and he has the receipt.’
Dr. May squeezed his arm. ‘I have not betrayed the secret, have I!’
‘You knew that he knew it!’
‘Not knew—suspected—generosity.’
‘I saw him! I saw him cast those imploring earnest eyes of his on the scoundrel as he spoke of the receipt—and the villain try to make himself of stone. Well, if I have one wish in life, it is to see that fellow come to the fate he deserves. I’ll never lose sight of him; I’ll dog him like a bloodhound!’
And what good will that do, when—Tom, Tom, we must move Heaven and earth for petitions. I’ll take them up myself, and get George Rivers to take me to the Home Secretary. Never fear, while there’s justice in Heaven.’
‘Here’s Henry!’ exclaimed Tom, withholding his father, who had almost ran against the brother, as they encountered round a corner.
He was pale and bewildered, and hardly seemed to hear the Doctor’s hasty asseverations that he would get a reprieve.
‘He sent me to meet you,’ said Henry. ‘He wants you to go home—to Ave I mean. He says that is what he wants most—for you to go to her now, and to come to him tomorrow, or when you can; and he wants to hear how Aubrey is,’ continued Henry, as if dreamily repeating a lesson.
‘He saw then—?’
‘Yes, and that seems to trouble him most.’