When Calton sat down a subdued murmur of applause was heard, which was instantly suppressed, and the judge began to sum up, which he did strongly in favor of Fitzgerald. The jury then retired, and immediately there was a dead silence in the crowded court—an unnatural silence, such as must have fallen on the blood-loving Roman populace when they saw the Christian martyrs kneeling on the hot yellow sands of the arena, and watched the long, lithe forms of lion and panther creeping stealthily toward their prey. The hour being late, the gas had been lighted, and there was a sickly glare through the wide hall, which added to the singularity of the scene. Fitzgerald had been taken out of court on the retiring of the jury, but the spectators stared steadily at the empty dock, which seemed to enchain them by some indescribable fascination. They conversed among themselves only in whispers, until even the whispering ceased, and nothing could be heard but the steady ticking of the clock, and now and then the quick-drawn breath of some timid onlooker. Suddenly a woman, whose nerves were overstrung, shrieked, and the cry rang weirdly through the crowded hall. She was taken out, and again there was silence, every eye being now fixed on the door through which the jury would come with their verdict of life or death. The hands of the clock moved slowly round—a quarter—a half—three-quarters—and then the hour sounded with a silvery ring which startled every one. Madge, sitting with her hands tightly clasped together, began to fear that her highly strung nerves would give way. "My God," she muttered softly to herself; "will this suspense never end?"
Just then the door opened, and the jury re-entered. The prisoner was again placed in the dock, and the judge again resumed his seat, this time with the black cap in his pocket, as everyone guessed.
The usual formalities were gone through, and when the foreman of the jury stood up every neck was craned forward, and every ear was on the alert to catch the words that fell from his lips. The prisoner flushed a little, and then grew pale as death, giving a quick, nervous glance at the quiet figure in black, of which he could just catch a glimpse. Then came in the verdict, sharp and decisive, "Not Guilty."
