Tony looked at the Jury and he looked round the Court, and he saw that the case did indeed look black against himself. When he was asked what was his defence, he said—
“There is no pleasing some people.”
“It is my duty to caution you,” said the Persecutor, “that everything you say will be used against you.”
“I am sure it will,” said Tony, wearily, “but I can’t help that, everything I do is used against me too. I needn’t have told any one anything about it. I might have got the milk myself and been King, but I got it for him, and I did not crack the mug. At least, I am almost sure not. I only wish I had drunk the milk.”
“Make him drink it now,” shouted a thousand voices from the crowded Court.
“Don’t!” said the King, hastily, “it might not be poison after all.”
“You can’t have it both ways, your Majesty,” said the Persecutor bravely; “either it is poison, in which case the Prisoner deserves to drink it, or it is not poison, in which case the Prisoner leaves the Court without a stain upon his character.”
“It is poison!”
