CHAPTER XI. "Innocence shall make False accusation blush, and tyranny By the side of Mr Thomas Smutt, who wore a look of combined pleasure and importance, was the prisoner, doubly and even trebly ironed. In the dock before him some green and fresh-gathered rue was spread the felon's nosegay-and there Ned Swiftfoot stood about to be arraigned for murder, "most foul as in the best it is; but this most foul, strange, and unnatural." Above, around, before, behind; from every nook, corner, loophole, chink, crevice, gap— no matter where, no matter how-wherever a glimpse could be caught of the accused, there was a fixed, stretched, and glistening eye. The rich and the poor, the old and the young were there, and the same subject absorbed and interested the senses of one and all. Shuffling of countless feet, rustling of dresses, suppressed voices and yet the many caused a loud continued humming, like the noise of a disturbed hive-whispering of doubts, fears, and hopes where mingled together in a chaos of confusion and disorder. Proudly, perhaps, would not express the bearing of Ned as he stood with his heaving chest thrown out, and breathing loudly like some blown and panting horse; but undaunted he remained, looking at the gazing multitude with unflinching eyes, and brow unabashed by guilt. From one to another his glance wandered, as if searching for some face that he expected to meet, and a shade of melancholy passed across his features at not meeting with it. "She said that she should be here," he muttered to himself, "and yet I cannot see her." "If you want for any information," observed the gaoler, perceiving the inquiring gaze of his prisoner, "I'll give it ye, although -mind ye-it's against the common order of circumstances. The Smutts," continued he, "were never familiar with their gaolbirds at any time; but when before the public-as I am now-they used to look at 'em out of the corners of their eyes with their noses curled up just the same as if they smelt something uncommon strong-a red herring for instance, a good deal too much highly flavoured by keeping-that's the way our family have been in the habit of treating their customers. But I Thomas Smuttwill make a difference with you before the public, as I have done behind 'em. So speak low and I'll answer ye; but at the same time try and look a little more respectful than you do just at this moment, particularly to me." Ned made no answer to this voluntary address on the part of the hangman; but he turned upon him a look so indignant and haughty, that Mr Smutt was feign to twist his face away and to hide his embarrassment in a loud, dry cough. "I think I hear the judge a-coming," said the gaoler, listening to some unusual sounds without. 66 By good rights," he continued, you should be introduced after he's taken his seat on the bench-bench we professional men call it, although it's only a chair—but from the crowded state of the court it was thought advisable-those were the sheriff's words to break through the rules and bring you to the bar-dock is common-first and foremost." "Is the court quite full ?" inquired the prisoner, still looking uneasily around. "I should say,” replied the hangman, in no way indisposed to be on better terms with Ned Swiftfoot, "I should say," repeated he, in a measured tone, "that there wasn't room for a fly, unless he kept himself buzzing on the wing." "No one else can enter, then ?" rejoined the prisoner. To "How can a thing come in if there an't no room?" replied Mr Smutt, interrogatively. "Does that stand to reason? be sure," he continued, "if you mean the judge, the sheriffs, and the county magistrates, they'll come in by the private door presently, and a goodly array they'll make, I'll be bound to say; but those are the only elses there's any room for." "Silence in the court!" shouted the crier. "Silence!" "Here comes the judge," remarked Mr Smutt, in a voice of admiration, as a flourish of trumpets was heard without. "Here "Did you comes the judge," he repeated. ever see a judge?" "No," replied the prisoner. |