"I am always a Jew," said s.h.a.garach. "Though I worship not with the ancient rites and forms, adapted for simple minds, my G.o.d is the G.o.d of my fathers and my heart is with my people. I value them, I love them, better than some who prey on their prejudices and wring ducats by pretended piety."
"But----" urged Cohen, stiff-necked and arrogant.
"I have spoken," said s.h.a.garach. "You have slandered me. Retract."
When he left Silberstein"s house the Ghetto was deserted. The people had fled within, and he saw Rabofsky far up the street, warning them with uplifted hands. Only two or three children, with eyes like jewels, played on the curbstone, innocent of the guile that comes with years. s.h.a.garach lifted one of these in his arms and kissed her. "Good-by," lisped the baby, as he continued his walk.
Bitter tears came into the strong man"s eyes.
That night he wrote late in his chamber; and though he was usually the earliest of risers, the next morning his mother knocked on his door repeatedly in vain.
"It is the trial day, my son," she said, loudly. Slowly he arose and rubbed his eyes. His clothing was dusty with the bedding lint. And when he came down to the breakfast table his look was mournful and abstracted.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
OYEZ! OYEZ!
"This is the gravest charge known to the law," said the district attorney, "and the man found guilty of it by a jury of his peers is condemned, under the statutes of this commonwealth, to be hanged by the neck until he is dead."
Dead! The solemn word reverberated through every listener"s heart. The crowded court-room was hushed. The jurymen had just been contemplating their own portraits in the last newspaper which they would see for many days, and now bent forward in the first flush of eager attention. Court officers were carrying whispered messages to and fro. On the bench sat Chief Justice Playfair, silver-haired and handsome, between two of his judicial brethren. The case was considered of such importance that three judges had been a.s.signed to decide upon the legal questions which might arise.
On the threshold of an ante-room Inspector McCausland was cordially shaking hands with s.h.a.garach. In the front row of the spectators sat Mrs. Arnold, thin-lipped and cold, beside a sad-faced woman in black. She had bowed distantly to the prisoner--no longer fettered, but permitted to occupy a seat in the "cage" in full view--between Dr. Silsby and Emily Barlow, who had bravely elected to join him. Evidently he was not one of those who grow plump on jail regime and batten under the shadow of the scaffold. The young man"s dark cheek was lean, his eyes unwontedly bright, but he never flinched from the district attorney"s gaze.
"You have learned from the reading of the indictment," thundered the district attorney, stroking his patriarchal beard with one hand and holding his notes in the other, "that the immediate act committed by the accused was not murder but arson. It is true that he did not deliberately procure the deaths of the seven persons who were deprived of their most precious property, of life itself, in that calamity with which our city rung on the evening of June 28. He did not draw their blood personally with the usual weapons of homicide--pistol, dagger, bludgeon or ax. But the evidence will show you that a new weapon, more dangerous, because more deadly, than any of these, was used on this occasion, and that he set on foot forces which did procure the deaths of the victims, and which, but for the vigilance of man and the mercy of Providence, might have doubled or trebled their number--yes, laid the greater part of our fair city in ruins.
"For myself, I might be willing to suppose that the accused did not foresee the consequences which would follow his rash deed; that he trusted to a confined and local destruction, of property merely, following his application of the match to his deceased uncle"s study. But the law, justly and wisely, we must admit, presumes foresight, imputes deliberation and malice, when loss of life follows the commission of a felony, and taxes the felon not alone with the initial damage but with all damages that accrue. I leave it to your own good sense, gentlemen, whether the fire-fiend who applies the torch in the heart of a crowded city is not potentially as guilty as the Malay running amuck with brandished dagger or the anarchist hurling his bomb. There can be only one answer to the question. Our own lives, the lives of our wives, sisters, children, are imperiled by any other doctrine than that which the law lays down.
"Therefore, reluctantly, sorrowfully, with misgivings and fear, we have impeached Robert Floyd of the murder of Ellen Greeley, who was burned to death in her chamber; of Rosanna Moxom, Katie Galuby, Mary Lacy and Florence F. Lacy, who died of injuries received while attempting to escape from the Harmon building; of Alexander Whitlove, who was caught between the floors of that building, in a heroic attempt to conduct his elevator to the imprisoned occupants of the upper story; and of Peter Schubert, the fireman who lost his life n.o.bly in the performance of his duty."
This catalogue of the victims moved the spectators, and Emily noticed the woman in black crying softly in her handkerchief.
"I will not attempt to instruct your consciences or call to your minds the responsibility which rests upon your shoulders as well as upon mine. For I am convinced that every man before me approaches this case with the same unwillingness which I myself have felt, but also with the same determination to uphold the law, to do justice and nothing more or less than justice, to all parties, that I myself have formed."
The district attorney spoke this disclaimer of officiousness or persecution with genuine feeling, but it was scarcely necessary for any who knew him. The name of Noah Bigelow, like that of s.h.a.garach, was guaranty in itself that the cause would be tried with courtesy and fairness. Yet something in his bearing might have told the psychologist that the nature of the man, unsuspicious, candid and slow to entertain a conviction of guilt, would be equally slow to part with such a conviction when it had once obtained a lodging.
The outline of the evidence to be presented consumed more than an hour in its delivery; and the reading, in a high drawl, of the minutes of the previous trial, occupied the remaining time until the noon recess tediously. If the jury had not been provided with a typewritten copy it would have profited little by this latter proceeding.
CHAPTER XLIX.
THE BATTERIES OPEN FIRE.
a.s.sistant District Attorney Badger conducted the examination of the first witness for the government, who gave his name as the Rev. St. George Thornton and wore the manner of an Oxford graduate.
"You knew the uncle of the accused, Prof. Arnold?"
"Excellently. He had been for many years an attendant at my church."
"The Church of the Messiah, of the Episcopal denomination?"
"The Episcopal church, sir; we do not consider it a denomination."
"You officiated at Prof. Arnold"s funeral service, I believe?" said Badger, disregarding this nice distinction.
"I did."
"This took place on June 26, I believe?"
"On Thursday, June 26; yes, sir."
"And saw the accused, Robert Floyd?"
"Yes, sir."
"Kindly describe his actions and appearance on that occasion, Dr. Thornton."
"In common with others who knew him, I was greatly struck by the absence of any signs of grief."
"Such as what?"
"Such as tears and--and general signs of dejection."
"As though he were meditating upon something else than the death of his uncle?"
"As though his thoughts were far away."
"That is all," said Badger, and s.h.a.garach, who had apparently expected something more substantial than this, arose.
"You have officiated at hundreds of funerals, I presume, Dr. Thornton?"
"At many hundreds, sir," answered the clergyman, gravely.
"And the ordinary marks of grief, as you say, are tears?"
"It is a rare burial in which tears are not shed."
"So rare that the exceptions impress themselves upon you, like the burial of Prof. Arnold?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you say that in this cla.s.s of rare exceptions the absence of tears was always due to callousness in the mourners?"
"Always? No, sir; not always."
"Generally?"
"I should not attempt to say, sir."
"You would scarcely judge the sincerity of a mourner"s sorrow by the copiousness of flow from his lachrymal glands?"
"Hardly."
"One moment," said Badger, detaining Dr. Thornton for the redirect. "Did you mean to emphasize the tearlessness of the accused as the princ.i.p.al feature of his bearing which attracted your attention?"
"No, sir; it was the coldness, I may say the general indifference expressed in his countenance, which struck me."
"Will you allow me to see your eyegla.s.ses, Dr. Thornton?" asked s.h.a.garach. "The lenses are concave. You are near-sighted?"
"Yes, sir."
"Badly so, I should say?"
"Yes, sir."
"That will do."
"John Harkins," answered the next witness to Badger"s preliminary question.
"Were you ever employed by Prof. Arnold?"
"I was."
"In what capacity?"
"As coachman."
"When?"
"About a year ago, just before Mungovan."
"How long did you remain in his household?"
"About two weeks."
"Did you notice anything unusual in the relations between the accused and his uncle?"
"Well, I heard them quarr"ling two or three times."
"What do you mean by quarreling?"
"Oh, they were talking angrily to each other."
"Did you listen so as to hear the import of any of these conversations?"
"Well, I didn"t listen, but I heard what they were saying."
"How often did you hear what they said?"
"I heard the old gentleman say once that he was a young rogue to be herding with the like of them cattle."
"Who?"
"The young fellow--his nephew."
"Called his nephew a rogue to be herding with such cattle?"
"Yes, sir."
"Those were his own words?"
"As near as I can remember."
"What kind of a master was Prof. Arnold?" asked s.h.a.garach.
"He was a pretty good man. I haven"t anything against him."
"Particular, wasn"t he?"
"Yes, he was particular."
"Why were you discharged at the end of a fortnight?"
"He didn"t give any reason; just said I didn"t suit, that was all."
"But he paid you in full?"
"Oh, yes."
"And you found him not unreasonably exacting?"
"Well, he used to grumble a good deal."
"At you?"