The announcement of the name produces a vivid impression upon the Court.
It is accompanied by a cry--sent up by the spectators, with a
simultaneity that proclaims them animated by a common sentiment.
It is not a cry of surprise; but one of far different augury. It has a
double meaning, too: at once proclaiming the innocence of the accused,
and the guilt of him who has been the most zealous amongst the accusers.
Against the latter, the testimony of Zeb Stump has done more than direct
suspicion. It confirms that already aroused; and which has been growing
stronger, as fact after fact has been unfolded: until the belief becomes
universal: that Maurice Gerald is not the man who should be on trial for
the murder of Henry Poindexter.
Equally is it believed that Calhoun is the man. The scrap of smeared
paper has furnished the last link in the chain of evidence; and, though
this is but circumstantial, and the motive an inconceivable mystery,
there is now scarce any one who has a doubt about the doer of the deed.
After a short time spent in examining the envelope--passed from hand to
hand among the jurymen--the witness who has hinted at having something
more to tell, is directed to continue his narration.
He proceeds to give an account of his suspicions--those that originally
prompted him to seek for "sign" upon the prairie. He tells of the shot
fired by Calhoun from the copse; of the chase that succeeded; and the
horse trade that came after. Last of all, he describes the scene in the
chapparal, where the Headless Horseman has been caught--giving this
latest episode in all its details, with his own interpretation of it.
This done, he makes a pause, and stands silent, as if awaiting the Court
to question him.
But the eyes of the auditory are no longer fixed upon him. They know
that his tale is completed; or, if not so, they need no further
testimony to guide their conclusions.
They do not even stay for the deliberations of the Court, now proceeding
to sift the evidence. Its action is too slow for men who have seen
justice so near being duped--themselves along with it; and--swayed by a
bitter reactionary spirit--revenge, proceeding from self-reproach--they
call loudly for a change in the programme.