“Not guilty!”
A gasp was heard, followed by roll after roll of applause as the frantic
crowd rose to its feet.
Never before, perhaps, in its whole history, had that old court-room seen
such a demonstration as was taking place now ... a demonstration that,
rising to the roof, seemed to be literally flying over the town.
And well might the audience cheer, for Pierre Lafitte is acquitted.
But it is not the mere fact that the brother of the _bosse_ of Barataria
has been acquitted of a grave charge that causes such a commotion in the
good city of New Orleans. Something of more moment than that had hung on
the decision of those twelve tried men and true: the further legitimate
existence of the colony of Grande Terre.
And the primary causes of all this excitement, Messrs. Edward
Livingston and John Grymes, are receiving their share and more of the
congratulations that are pouring on the heads of the victors of this
legal battle. For have not these two eminent lawyers cleared their poor,
innocent, persecuted clients of the utterly unfounded and absolutely
preposterous charges brought against them? And (whisper it, _mon ami_)
have not these paragons of the bar, these advocates _par excellence_,
discreetly taught them certain legal tricks whereby they can still
continue to do business at the same spot, and yet make a _pied-de-nez_
... a thumb to the nose ... and say, “Pouf! That for you!” to the
Government?
Yes, they have done this, and much more beside, and now they stand, each
flanking the triumphant victim of the malignity of a despotic government,
and modestly receive the plaudits of their friends. How fortunate has
Pierre Lafitte been to have such powerful defenders ... men with tongues
of silvery eloquence! And how wise was the great Jean Lafitte when he
secured their aid! With what magnificent oratory did the grandiloquent
Livingston assail the ears of His-Honor-on-the-Bench! With what marvelous
shrewdness did Grymes argue for long hours with that round dozen of
blockheads in the jury-box! Ah, it was a treat to listen to them, _mes
amis_, a precious boon! Monsieur Grymes? _Il fut une merveille!_ Monsieur
Livingston? _Il fut magnifique! Oh, là là!_ What a rolling of Creole
eyes!... What ecstasies of admiration!...
What gallant badinage—sallies—laborious repartee!
What a glorious victory for our friends! What humiliation for this
upstart government!
And (between you and me, _mon ami_), what a blow to the pride—the
haughty self-sufficiency—of his most respected Excellency, _Monsieur le
gouverneur_!
“_C’est pour rire!_”
It is to laugh, indeed....
“Not guilty!”