These were all closely knit, and all tended
strongly to the conviction of the guilt of the accused. Still they were
circumstantial; and the doubts of the jury were, of course, so many
arguments on the side of mercy. He concluded.
But the jury had no doubts. How should they doubt? They deliberated,
indeed, for form's sake, but not long. In a little while they returned
to their place, and the verdict was read by the clerk.
"Guilty."
"Guilty," responded the prisoner, and for a moment his head dropped upon
his clasped hands, and his frame shivered as with an ague.
"Guilty--guilty--Oh, my father--Edith--Edith--have I lived for this?"
There was no other sign of human weakness. He arose with composure, and
followed, with firm step, the officer to his dungeon. His only thought
was of the sorrows and the shame of others--of those of whom he had been
the passion and the pride--of that father's memory and name, of whom he
had been the cherished hope--of that maiden of whom he had been the
cherished love.
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