ct of guilty of
wilful murder, especially as there were no extenuating circumstances
sufficient in any way to lessen the guilt, all hope was gone. And yet
he felt as though he must say something. It seemed like allowing
himself to be led as a lamb to a butcher if he uttered no word of
protest.

"My lord and gentlemen of the jury," he said, "I feel impelled to say a
few words, even although I realise their uselessness. I have no
complaint to make concerning the motives which inspired the jury. I
have no doubt that each one has tried to do his duty. Neither do I
complain of the action of the counsel for the prosecution in doing his
utmost to fasten the guilt upon me. I suppose it was his duty so to
do, and he has done it. Neither, I suppose, ought I to complain of
your lordship's summing up, although it struck me as more like another
speech by the counsel for prosecution than the judicial analysis of
evidence by an impartial judge. But then my position has been of such
a nature that perhaps my own judgment is warped. Be that as it may,
however, and knowing that, whatever I may say, I cannot alter anything
that has been done, I wish to repeat that I am utterly and wholly
guiltless concerning this murder. My hand never struck the blow that
killed Edward Wilson, and I have no knowledge whatever concerning the
murder. In the course of events, I suppose I shall be hanged, but, my
lord and gentlemen, you will hang an innocent man, and by your finding
to-day, you will send a man into eternity who is not only altogether
innocent of the murder, but altogether unconnected with it! I shall go
into the great silence, into the land of forgetfulness, but of this I
am sure, you, my lord, and you, gentlemen of the jury, must for ever be
haunted by the thought that you have sent an innocent man to an
unmerited doom."

The tones of his voice gathered in strength and condemnatory intonation
as he proceeded, and when he had finished it seemed to many as though
he were the judge and those to whom he spoke were criminals. More than
one of the jury, who had been unconvinced, but who had given way to the
opinions of others, felt as though his words were true. They shuddered
as he spoke, and it seemed to them that they were guilty, even as he
said they were.

But the word had gone forth and could not be recalled. When once a
jury, after careful deliberation, has uttered the verdict of "Guilty,"
that verdict is final. Even alth