CHAPTER XXX.
The fall term of court was now in session, and Milton Derr was put ontrial for his life.
The case, deeply tinged with romance and mystery, aroused a lively andunusual interest, both in the town and county, and during the progressof the trial the courtroom was crowded with interested spectators.
While the prisoner had seemed at first both careless and indifferentregarding his fate, now, since his interview with his former sweetheart,he began to feel a strong and urgent desire to prove his innocence, andto do what he could to help clear the mystery of the murder.
The girl had given him a point to unravel.
"Do you remember telling me that a horseman came down the road the nightyou were near the Squire's gate?" she asked of Derr on her second visitto the jail.
"Yes, it was the fear of meeting this horseman, and perhaps beingrecognized by him in the lightning's sudden glare, that led me to quitthe highway and take to the fields."
"Well, that horseman never passed me, and I feel sure he never passedthrough the New Pike gate," said Sally, thoughtfully. "I waited in theroad some little time, hoping you would turn back, and even after I hadgone to bed it was a long time before I fell asleep. I heard no sound ofpassing. Whoever that rider was, he stopped at, or near Squire Bixler'splace, and came no further. If we could manage to find out who thisperson was, the mystery of the murder might be solved."
There was little evidence to be introduced on either side during theprogress of the trial, and what little there was helped to weigh againstthe prisoner. His movements at Grigg's Station were those of a manstriving to avoid notice, indeed, his whole bearing before and after hisarrest was that of a guilty person seeking to make good his escape.
The accused offered no explanation of his presence at the station, wherehe was on the point of buying a ticket to the West when arrested. Tohave done so he would have had to disclose his connection with theraiders, the cause of his flight and return, and his presence in theimmediate neighborhood of his uncle's farm on that fatal night.
He was in an unfortunate position, it seemed, when everything appearedto work to his disadvantage, and help throw suspicion on his movements,and yet he dared not turn the needed light on them. He knew he was safe,so far as Sally was concerned, in regard to meeting her at thetoll-gate, and the idle threats he had uttered against the Squire in thefirst heat of passion and jealousy.
His enmity toward his uncle was too well known, however, to escapecomment, and was easily proven, along with sundry angry words he haduttered against his kinsman when first he had left his uncle's roof,words that had lost nothing of their sharpness by the lapse of time, andwere now repeated with such embellishments that even the speaker haddifficulty in recalling or recognizing the original form in which theyhad been first uttered.
Moreover, the great benefits that the nephew would derive from hisuncle's death, should it occur before a marriage could take place, wereclearly brought forth, and a strong incentive shown for the commissionof such a deed, at the especial time it occurred--the eve of theSquire's wedding.
When the evidence had been gathered--it was scant enough at best, andsadly damaging,--the case was presented to the jury by the speakers oneach side, with facts so skilfully juggled, now and then, that animpartial listener would scarcely know how to place them aright.
Sometimes flowery rhetorical effects were used where facts were few,that words might count instead, until there seemed never to have livedso just, upright and beloved a man as the squire, or so damnable andblood-thirsty a villain as his nephew.
Sally came to court each day, along with Sophronia and her father. Thethree sat anxiously throughout the trial, hopeful and despondent byturns, as the prisoner was upheld or denounced, one hearer, at least,never wavering in the belief of his innocence from beginning to end.
Late one afternoon the case was finished and submitted to the jury, butscarcely a soul quitted the courtroom, so deep an interest was felt,each one remaining, impatiently waiting for the verdict, which mightcome early or late, no man knew.
When the doors had closed upon the retiring jury, the Judge picked up anewspaper on his desk, and leaning back in his chair began to read,while Sally, noting the act, wondered within herself how one could seemso calm and indifferent, when a man's very life hung trembling in thescales of justice. Her own brain was in a whirl of excitement andanxiety. She was scarcely able to think connectedly, and to her narrowedrange of thought it seemed the very world must pause in anxiety while soweighty a matter was in the balance.
The afternoon grew on apace. The dull gray shadows within the corners ofthe courtroom deepened and spread until the rows of expectant facesbecame a blurred and indistinct mass, except where the bands of light,falling through the windows, gave them a certain ashen pallor.
Once or twice Mr. Saunders moved uneasily in his seat. He knew it wasgrowing late, with many things at home demanding his attention--thestock to be fed, the horses watered, the night's chores to be done--yethe felt he could not pull himself away until he had heard some messagefrom the jury room, either of good or evil.
The others waited, too. A vague hum of voices talking in low undertonesgradually overcame the quiet that had fallen on the waiting crowd, andfrom time to time anxious and impatient glances were shot toward theclosed doors, through which the jury were to come.
The gray evening shadows without, presaging the approach of night,perhaps the prisoner's doom, silently crept into the room, mingling withthe gloomier shadows within the building. Presently the janitor came andlighted some ill-smelling lamps, one upon the Judge's desk, the othersclinging to the grimy walls, and soon these lights began to strugglethrough the smoky chimneys, striving against the deepening shadows inunequal battle, as the good frequently combats with the evil in ournatures.
At last, after interminable hours of suspense, it seemed to the waitinggirl, the slow tramp--tramp--of the jury down the stairway from theroom above, struck her expectant ear like the doleful tread of a funeralprocession. Nearer and nearer came the sound, then the courtroom doorswere thrown open, and the twelve men entered, two by two, and quietlytook their places in the jury box.
The Judge had laid aside his paper, and was leaning attentively on thedesk, while every neck was craned forward in eager expectancy. Aprofound hush fell, and each ear was bent to hear the verdict, whosegrave import many already guessed. Those in the rear of the room weretiptoeing and peering anxiously over the heads of the ones in front,while a few who had been waiting on the outside of the building nowhurried in and pressed quickly forward.
Sally sat immovable, her hands clenched tightly in an agony of cruelsuspense, her heart-throbs sounding in her ears like funeral bells, herface immobile as stone. She had given one swift, piercing look towardthe jury as they entered, as if to read in advance the verdict they hadbrought, and the grave, stern faces she saw froze her very heart withthe dire import of that verdict. From the jury her eyes had centered onthe prisoner, who had lifted his head, and was calmly awaiting the wordsthat were to give him freedom, or--he dared not think further--life hadsuddenly grown very sweet to him.
The clear voice of the judge broke in upon the profound silence that hadfallen on the entrance of the jury:
"Gentlemen, have you found a verdict?"
"We have," the foreman answered.
"The Court is ready to hear it."
The foreman stepped forward, and, clearing his throat, began to speak:"Your Honor we, the jury, find the prisoner is"--
A slight commotion made itself manifest at the door of the courtroom.The judge cast an inquiring glance in its direction, and rapping sharplyon his desk cried out:
"Silence in Court!"
The noise increased. A voice was heard calling, "Hold! Hold!"
At the sound, Sophronia turned quickly and looked in the directionwhence it came. Billy West was calling out, and pressing through thecrowd, holding aloft a legal-looking document which he waved excitedlytoward the judge.
r /> "Hold, your Honor!" he cried again. "Stay the proceedings of the Court!An innocent man is on trial! I have here a sworn confession from the onewho killed Squire Bixler. It was Steve Judson. Steve was shot about noonto-day by Jade Beddow, who was also killed in the fight. Steve sent forme to come an' bring a notary public along.
"Here is Steve's dyin' statement. Squire Bixler owed him some money andrefused to pay it. Steve went to his house that night to collect it, andin a quarrel that followed, he stabbed the Squire. Milton Derr hadnothin' to do with the crime. He's innocent!"
The excited messenger strode forward and thrust the paper he carriedinto the outstretched hand of the Judge. A wave of surprise swept overthe courtroom, and the murmur of voices grew louder until it finallybroke into a loud cheer of victory for the prisoner.
After the introduction of this new testimony, the jury promptly retired,and in a few moments brought in a verdict of "Not guilty."
In all the confusion that arose with the clamor of many voices aroundhim, Milton Derr seemed to hear but one faint voice close to his ear, tofeel the pressure of one gentle hand alone, to look into but one pair oftender, truthful eyes--all the rest was but a blurred and indistinctmemory.