The Eagle's Heart Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  THE TRIAL

  The day of his trial came as a welcome change to Harold. He had no fearof punishment and he hated delay. Every day before his sentence beganwas a loss of time--kept him just that much longer from the alluringlands to the West. His father called often to see him, but the boyremained inexorably silent in all these meetings, and the minister wentaway white with pain. Even to his sister Harold was abrupt and harsh,but Jack's devotion produced in him the most exalted emotion, and heturned upon his loyal chum the whole force of his affectionate nature.He did not look up to Jack; he loved him more as a man loves his youngerbrother, and yet even to him he would not utter the words young Slocumhad flung at him. Lawyer Talcott had asked young Burns to get at this ifpossible, for purpose of defense, but it was not possible.

  The court met on the first Tuesday in September. The day was windlessand warm, and as Harold walked across the yard with the sheriff helooked around at the maple leaves, just touched with crimson and goldand russet, and his heart ached with desire to be free. The scent of theopen air made his nostrils quiver like those of a deer.

  Jack met them on the path--eager to share his hero's trouble.

  "Please, sheriff, let me walk with Harry."

  "Fall in behind," the sheriff gruffly replied; and so out of all thetown people Jack alone associated himself with the prisoner. Up thestairs whereon he had romped when a lad, Harold climbed spiritlessly, aboy no longer.

  The halls were lined with faces, everyone as familiar as the scarred andscratched wall of the court room, and yet all were now alien--no onerecognized him by a frank and friendly nod, and he moved past his oldcompanions with sullen and rigid face. His father met him at the doorand walked beside him down the aisle to a seat.

  The benches were crowded, and every foot of standing space was soonfilled. The members of the First Church were present in mass to see theminister enter, pale and haggard with the disgrace of his son.

  The judge, an untidy old man of great ability and probity, was in hisseat, looking out absently over the spectators. "The next case" to himwas _only_ a case. He had grown gray in dealing with infractions of thelaw, and though kindly disposed he had grown indifferent--use had dulledhis sympathies. His beard, yellow with tobacco stain, was stillvenerable, and his voice, deep and melodious, was impressive andcommanding.

  He was disposed to cut short all useless forms, and soon brought thecase to vital questions. Naturally, the prosecution made a great deal ofHarold's bad character, drawing from ready witnesses the story of hismisdeeds. To do this was easy, for the current set that way, and thosewho had only _thought_ Harold a bad boy now _knew_ that he was concernedin all the mischief of the village.

  In rebuttal, Mr. Talcott drew out contradictory statements from thesewitnesses, and proved several alibis at points where Harold had beenaccused. He produced Jack Burns and several others to prove that Haroldliked fun, but that he was not inclined to lead in any of the mischiefof the town--in fact, that he had not the quality of leadership.

  He pushed young Burns hard to get him to say that he knew the words ofinsult which Slocum had used. "I think he used some girl's name," hefinally admitted.

  "I object," shouted the prosecution, as if touched on a hidden spring.

  "Go on," said the judge to Talcott. He had become interested in the caseat last.

  When the lawyer for the prosecution cross-examined young Burns he becameterrible. He leaned across the table and shook his lean, big-jointedfinger in Jack's face. "We don't want what you _think_, sir; we wantwhat you know. Do you _know_ that Slocum brought a girl's name intothis?"

  "No, sir, I don't," replied Jack, red and perspiring.

  "That's all!" cried the attorney, leaning back in his chair withdramatic complacency.

  Others of Harold's companions were brow-beaten into declaring that heled them into all kinds of raids, and when Talcott tried to stem thistide by objection, the prosecution rose to say that the testimony wascompetent; that it was designed to show the dangerous character of theprisoner. "He is no gentle and guileless youth, y'r Honor, but areckless young devil, given to violence. No one will go further than Iin admiration of the Reverend Mr. Excell, but the fact of the son'slawless life can not be gainsaid."

  Slocum repeated his story on the stand and was unshaken by Bradley'scross-examination. Suddenly the defense said: "Stand, please."

  Slocum arose--a powerful, full-grown man.

  Bradley nodded at Harold. "Stand also."

  "I object," shrieked the prosecution.

  "State the objection," said the judge.

  "Keep your position," said Bradley sternly. "I want the jury to compareyou."

  As the prisoner and the witness faced each other the court roomblossomed with smiles. Harold looked very pale and delicate beside thecoarse, muscular hostler, who turned red and looked foolish.

  Ultimately the judge sustained the objection, but the work was done. Adramatic contrast had been drawn, and the jury perceived thepusillanimity of Slocum's story. This was the position of the defense.Harold was a boy, the hostler had insulted him, had indeed struck himwith a whip. Mad with rage, and realizing the greater strength of hisassailant, the prisoner had drawn a knife.

  In rebuttal, the prosecution made much of Harold's fierce words. Hemeant to kill. He was a dangerous boy. "Speaking with due reverence forhis parents," the lawyer said, "the boy has been a scourge. Again andagain he has threatened his playmates with death. These facts muststand. The State is willing to admit the disparity of strength, soartfully set forth by the defense, but it must not be forgotten that theboy was known to carry deadly weapons, and that he was subject to blindrages. It was not, therefore, so much a question of punishing the boy asof checking his assaults upon society. To properly punish him here wouldhave a most salutary effect upon his action in future. The jury mustconsider the case without sentiment."

  Old Brown arose after the State had finished. Everyone knew his powerbefore a jury, and the room was painfully silent as he walked withstately tread to a spittoon and cleared his mouth of a big wad oftobacco. He was the old-fashioned lawyer, formal, deliberate; and thougheverybody enjoyed Bradley Talcott's powerful speech, they looked fordrama from Brown. The judge waited patiently while the famous old lawyerplayed his introductory part. At last, after silently pacing to and frofor a full minute, he turned, and began in a hard, dry, nasal voice.

  "Your Honor, I'm not so sure of the reforming effect of a penitentiary.I question the salutary quality of herding this delicate andhigh-spirited youth with the hardened criminals of the State." Hisstrident, monotonous tone, and the cynical inflections of his voice madethe spectators shiver with emotion as under the power of a great actor.He paced before the judge twice before speaking again. "Your Honor,there is more in this case than has yet appeared. Everyone in this roomknows that the elopement of Dorothy Burland is at the bottom of thisaffair, everyone but yourself, judge. This lad was the acceptedsweetheart of that wayward miss. This man Slocum is one of the rough,loud-spoken men of the village, schooled in vice and fisticuffery. Youcan well imagine, gentlemen of the jury," he turned to them abruptly,"you can well imagine the kind of a greeting this town loafer would givethis high-spirited boy on that morning after the night when his_inamorata_ disappeared with a married man. The boy has in him somewhatof the knight of the old time, your Honor; he has never opened his lipsin dispraise of his faithless love. He has refused to repeat theinsulting words of his assailant. He stands to-day at a turning point ofhis life, gentlemen of the jury, and it depends on you whether he goesdownward or upward. He has had his faith in women shaken: don't let himlose faith in law and earthly justice." His first gesture was on theword "downward," and it was superb.

  Again he paused, and when he looked up again a twinkle was in his eyesand his voice was softer. "As for all this chicken roasting and melonlifting, you well know the spirit that is in that; we all had a hand insuch business once, every man Jack of us. The boy is no more culpablenow t
han you were then. Moreover, Excell has had too much of themischief of the town laid on his shoulders--more than he deserves. 'Givea dog a bad name and every dead sheep is laid at the door of hiskennel.'

  "However, I don't intend to review the case, y'r Honor. My colleague hasmade the main and vital points entirely clear; I intend merely to add aword here and there. I want you to take another look at that pale,handsome, poetic youth and then at that burly bully, and consider thefolly, the idiocy, and the cowardice of the charge brought against ourclient." He waited while the contrast which his dramatic utterance madeenormously effective was being felt; then, in a deep, melodious voice,touched with sadness, he addressed the judge:

  "And to you, your Honor, I want to say we are old men. You on the benchand I here in the forum have faced each other many times. I havedefended many criminals, as it was my duty to do, and you have punishedmany who deserved their sentences. I have seen innocent men unable toprove their freedom from guilt, and I have known men who are grosslycriminal, because of lack of evidence--these things are beyond ourcure. We are old, your Honor: we must soon give place to younger men. Wecan not afford to leave bench and bar with the stain of injustice on ourgarments. We can not afford to start this boy on the road to hell atseventeen years of age."

  He stopped as abruptly as he had begun, and the room was silent for along time after he had taken his seat. To Harold it seemed as though heand all the people of the room were dead--that only his brain was alive.Then Mrs. Excell burst into sobbing. The judge looked away into space,his dim eyes seeing nothing that was near, his face an impassive mask ofcolorless flesh. The old lawyer's words had stirred his blood, sluggishand cold with age, but his brain absorbed the larger part of his rousedvitality, and when he spoke his voice had an unwontedly flat and drysound.

  "The question for you to decide," he said, instructing the jury, "iswhether the boy struck the blow in self-defense, or whether he assaultedwith intent to do great bodily injury. The fact that he was provoked bya man older and stronger than himself naturally militates in his favor,but the next question is upon the boy's previous character. Did he carrydeadly weapons? Is he at heart dangerous to his fellows? His youthshould be in mind, but it should also be remembered that he is a lad ofhigh intellectual power, older than most men of his age. I will notdwell upon the case; you have heard the testimony; the verdict is inyour keeping."

  During all this period of severe mental strain Mr. Excell sat besideLawyer Brown, motionless as a statue, save when now and again he leanedforward to whisper a suggestion. He did not look at his son, and Haroldseldom looked at him. Jack Burns sat as near the prisoner as the sheriffwould permit, and his homely, good face, and the face of the judge wereto Harold the only spots of light in the otherwise dark room. Outsidethe voices of children could be heard and the sound of the rising windin the rustling trees. Once a breeze sent a shower of yellow and crimsonleaves fluttering in at the open window, and the boy's heart swelledhigh in his throat, and he bowed his head and sobbed. Those leavesrepresented the splendor of the open spaces to him. They were likemessages from the crimson sunsets of the golden West, and his heartthrilled at the sight of them.

  It was long after twelve o'clock, and an adjournment for dinner wasordered. Harold was about to be led away when his father came to him andsaid:

  "Harold, would you like to have your mother and me go to dinner withyou?"

  With that same unrelenting, stubborn frown on his face the boy replied:"No--let me alone."

  A hot flush swept over the preacher's face. "Very well," he said, andturned away, his lips twitching.

  The jury was not long out. They were ready to report at three o'clock.Every seat was filled as before. The lawyers came in, picking theirteeth or smoking. The ladies were in Sunday dress, the young men wereaccompanied by their girls, as if the trial were a dramaticentertainment. Those who failed of regaining their seats were muchannoyed; others, more thrifty, had hired boys to keep their places forthem during the noon hour, and others, still more determined, havingbrought lunches, had remained in their seats throughout theintermission, and were serene and satisfied.

  Harold was brought back to his seat looking less haggard. He was notafraid of sentence; on the contrary he longed to have the suspense end.

  "I don't care what they do with me if they don't use up too much of mylife," he said to Jack. "I'll pound rock or live in a dungeon if it willonly shorten my sentence. I hate to think of losing time. Oh, if I hadonly gone last year!"

  The Reverend Excell came in, looming high above the crowd, his facestill white and set. He paid no heed to his parishioners, but made hisway to the side of Lawyer Brown. The judge mounted his bench and thecourt room came to order instantly.

  "Is the jury ready to report on the case of the State _vs._ Excell?" heasked in a low voice. He was informed that they were agreed. After thejury had taken their seats he said blandly, mechanically: "Gentlemen, weare ready for your verdict."

  Harold knew the foreman very well. He was a carpenter and joiner inwhose shop he had often played--a big, bluff, good-hearted man whom anypublic speaking appalled, and who stammered badly as he read from alittle slip of paper: "Guilty of assault with intent to commit greatbodily injury, but recommended to the mercy of the judge." Then, withone hand in his breeches pocket, he added: "Be easy on him, judge; Ibelieve I'd 'a' done the same."

  The spectators tittered at his abrupt change of tone, and some of theyoung people applauded. He sat down very hot and red.

  The judge did not smile or frown; his expressionless face seemed morelike a mask than ever. When he began to speak it was as though he werereading something writ in huge letters on a distant wall.

  "The Court is quite sensible of the extenuating circumstances attendingthis sad case, but there are far-reaching considerations which the Courtcan not forget. Here is a youth of good family, who elects to take up alife filled with mischief from the start. Discipline has been lacking.Here, at last, he so far oversteps the law that he appears before ajury. It seems to the Court necessary, for this young man's own good,that he feel the harsh hand of the law. According to the evidenceadduced here to-day, he has been for years beyond the control of hisparents, and must now know the inflexible purpose of law. I have in mindall that can be said in his favor: his youth, the disparity of age andphysical power between himself and his accuser, the provocation, and thepossession of the whip by the accuser--but all these are more thancounterbalanced by the record of mischief and violence which standsagainst the prisoner."

  There was a solemn pause, and the judge sternly said: "Prisoner, standup." Harold arose. "For an assault committed upon the person of oneClinton Slocum, I now sentence you, Harold Excell, to one year in thepenitentiary, and may you there learn to respect the life and propertyof your fellow-citizens."

  "Judge! I beg----" The tall form of Mr. Excell arose, seeking to speak.

  The judge motioned him to silence.

  Brown interposed: "I hope the court will not refuse to hear the fatherof the prisoner. It would be scant justice if----"

  Mr. Excell's voice arose, harsh, stern, and quick. He spoke like the bigman he was, firm and decided. Harold looked up at him in surprise.

  "I claim the right to be heard; will the Court refuse me the privilegeof a word?" His voice was a challenge. "I am known in this community.For seven years as a minister of the Gospel I have lived among thesecitizens. My son is about to be condemned to State's prison, and beforehe goes I want to make a statement here before him and before the judgeand before the world. I understand this boy better than any of you,better than the mother who bore him, for I have given him thedisposition which he bears. I have had from my youth the same murderousrages: I have them yet. I love my son, your Honor, and I would take himin my arms if I could, but he has too much of my own spirit. Heliterally can not meet me as an affectionate son, for I sacrificed hisgood-will by harsh measures while he was yet a babe. I make thisconfession in order that the Court may understand my relation to my son.H
e was born with my own temper mingled with the poetic nature of hismother. While he was yet a lad I beat him till he was discolored bybruises. Twice I would have killed him only for the intervention of mywife. I have tried to live down my infirmity, your Honor, and I have atlast secured control of myself, and I believe this boy will do the same,but do not send him to be an associate with criminals. My God! do nottreat him as I would not do, even in my worst moments. Give him a chanceto reform outside State's prison. Don't fix on him that stain. I willnot say send me--that would be foolish trickery--but I beg you to makesome other disposition of this boy of mine. If he goes to thepenitentiary I shall strip from my shoulders the dress of the clergymanand go with him, to be near to aid and comfort him during the term ofhis sentence. Let the father in you speak for me, judge. Be merciful, aswe all hope for mercy on the great day, for Jesus' sake."

  The judge looked out over the audience of weeping women and his facewarmed into life. He turned to the minister, who still stood before himwith hand outstretched, and when he spoke his voice was softened and hiseyes kindly.

  "The Court has listened to the words of the father with peculiarinterest. The Court _is_ a father, and has been at a loss to understandthe relations existing between father and son in this case. The Courtthinks he understands them better now. As counsel for the defense hassaid, I am an old man, soon to leave my seat upon the bench, and I donot intend to let foolish pride or dry legal formalities stand betweenme and the doing of justice. The jury has decided that the boy isguilty, but has recommended him to the mercy of the Court. The plea ofthe father has enlightened the Court on one or two most vital points.Nothing is further from the mind of the Court than the desire to doinjury to a handsome and talented boy. Believing that the father and sonare about to become more closely united, the Court here transmutes thesentence to one hundred dollars fine and six months in the county jail.This will make it possible for the son and father to meet often, and thefather can continue his duties to the church. This the Court decidesupon as the final disposition of the accused. The case is closed. Callthe next case."