The day at length is come on which Agnes shall have a sight of her
beloved William! She who has watched for hours near his door, to procure
a glimpse of him going out, or returning home; who has walked miles to
see his chariot pass: she now will behold him, and he will see her by
command of the laws of their country. Those laws, which will deal with
rigour towards her, are in this one instance still indulgent.
The time of the assizes, at the county town in which she is imprisoned,
is arrived--the prisoners are demanded at the shire-hall--the jail doors
are opened--they go in sad procession--the trumpet sounds--it speaks the
arrival of the judge--and that judge is William!
The day previous to her trial, Agnes had read, in the printed calendar of
the prisoners, his name as the learned justice before whom she was to
appear. For a moment she forgot her perilous state in the excess of joy
which the still unconquerable love she bore to him permitted her to taste
even on the brink of the grave! After-reflection made her check those
worldly transports, as unfit for the present solemn occasion. But alas!
to her, earth and William were so closely united that, till she forsook
the one, she could never cease to think, without the contending passions
of hope, of fear, of joy, of love, of shame, and of despair, on the
other.
Now fear took place of her first immoderate joy--she feared that,
although much changed in person since he had seen her, and her real name
now added to many an _alias_--yet she feared that same well-known glance
of the eye, turn of the action, or accent of speech, might recall her to
his remembrance; and at that idea shame overcame all her other
sensations--for still she retained pride, in respect to _his_ opinion, to
wish him not to know Agnes was that wretch she felt she was! Once a ray
of hope beamed on her, "that if he knew her, he recognised her, he might
possibly befriend her cause;" and life bestowed through William's
friendship seemed a precious object! But again, that rigorous honour she
had often heard him boast, that firmness to his word, of which she had
fatal experience, taught her to know, he would not for any unproper
compassion, any unmanly weakness, forfeit his oath of impartial justice.
In meditations such as these she passed the sleepless night. When, in
the morning, she was brought to the bar, and her guilty hand held up
before the righteous judgment seat of William--imagination could not form
two figures, or two situations more incompatible with the existence of
former familiarity, than the judge and the culprit--and yet, these very
persons had passed together the most blissful moments that either ever
tasted! Those hours of tender dalliance were now present to _her_ mind.
_His_ thoughts were more nobly employed in his high office; nor could the
haggard face, hollow eye, desponding countenance, and meagre person of
the poor prisoner, once call to his memory, though her name was uttered
among a list of others which she had assumed, his former youthful, lovely
Agnes!
She heard herself arraigned with trembling limbs and downcast looks; and
many witnesses had appeared against her before she ventured to lift her
eyes up to her awful judge. She then gave one fearful glance, and
discovered William, unpitying but beloved William, in every feature! It
was a face she had been used to look on with delight, and a kind of
absent smile of gladness now beamed on her poor wan visage.
When every witness on the part of the prosecutor had been examined, the
judge addressed himself to her--"What defence have you to make?"
It was William spoke to Agnes! The sound was sweet; the voice was mild,
was soft, compassionate, encouraging! It almost charmed her to a love of
life!--not such a voice as when William last addressed her; when he left
her undone and pregnant, vowing never to see or speak to her more.
She could have hung upon the present words for ever! She did not call to
mind that this gentleness was the effect of practice, the art of his
occupation: which, at times, is but a copy, by the unfeeling, from his
benevolent brethren of the bench. In the present judge, tenderness was
not designed for the consolation of the culprit, but for the approbation
of the auditors.
There were no spectators, Agnes, by your side when last he parted from
you: if there had, the awful William had been awed to marks of pity.
Stunned with the enchantment of that well-known tongue directed to her,
she stood like one just petrified--all vital power seemed suspended.
Again he put the question, and with these additional sentences, tenderly
and emphatically delivered--"Recollect yourself. Have you no witnesses?
No proof in your behalf?"
A dead silence followed these questions.
He then mildly, but forcibly, added--"What have you to say?"
Here a flood of tears burst from her eyes, which she fixed earnestly upon
him, as if pleading for mercy, while she faintly articulated,
"Nothing, my lord."
After a short pause, he asked her, in the same forcible but benevolent
tone--
"Have you no one to speak to your character?" The prisoner answered--
A second gush of tears followed this reply, for she called to mind by
_whom_ her character had first been blasted.
He summed up the evidence; and every time he was compelled to press hard
upon the proofs against her she shrunk, and seemed to stagger with the
deadly blow; writhed under the weight of _his_ minute justice, more than
from the prospect of a shameful death.
The jury consulted but a few minutes. The verdict was--
"Guilty."
She heard it with composure.
But when William placed the fatal velvet on his head, and rose to
pronounce her sentence, she started with a kind of convulsive motion;
retreated a step or two back, and, lifting up her hands, with a scream
exclaimed--
"Oh! not from _you_!"
The piercing shriek which accompanied these words prevented their being
heard by part of the audience; and those who heard them thought little of
their meaning, more than that they expressed her fear of dying.
Serene and dignified, as if no such exclamation had been uttered, William
delivered the fatal speech, ending with, "Dead, dead, dead."
She fainted as he closed the period, and was carried back to prison in a
swoon; while he adjourned the court to go to dinner.