jury. That
is the question to be discussed, and you are not in a temper of mind,
sir, to enable you to decide it impartially. The affair will ring from
one end of England and the United States to the other, and the
execrations of thousands, who have as yet never heard of you, will
fall upon your name. You will find that there are two sides to the
question. You will find that if the lady has a malignant accuser she
has also indignant and powerful defenders. The world will say you
might have been excusable not to release her, but you had no right to
hurry her before the public with needless and brutal precipitation.
They will say--and I will take care to tell them--that, overcome by
your violent temper, you insulted--you _assaulted_--a helpless young
girl in your power, whose guilt had not been proved, and that, because
I dragged you back--blind with wrath, and burning with revenge--you
dared to take upon yourself, alone, the whole responsibility of this
outrage, which will bring punishment on you, and disgrace on your
house. They will say let no lady hereafter trust herself across the
threshold of Blake, Blanchard & Co., where the watch is set and the
trap laid for the unwary. They will say that Mr. Jennings is a foul
calumniator of woman as a sex--that he has charged the noble ladies of
England with crime. They will judge whether the young girl could be
guilty without the participation of her mother and myself, who, as you
say, fled with her. The case is one of mere carelessness, or we are
three thieves. Go on, if you dare, without your partners. Your house,
will become infamous, and you--yourself--mark me, sir, shall not
escape the chastisement you deserve!"

He ceased, and the silence remained for a while unbroken.

This appeal was not, on the part of Franklin, the mere result of
passion and despair, although from both it received a strange power.
It was a wise calculation that Jennings, who could not be reasoned or
melted, might be terrified from his purpose, till the arrival of his
partners, before whom the matter might take a different turn. By a
happy inspiration Franklin had read the man aright, and he saw changes
of countenance, as he proceeded, which gave boldness to his heart and
fire to his lips. Jennings was a coward. He was terror-struck at the
idea of acting on his "sole responsibility," in an affair which seemed
likely to be so hotly contested. The blood curdled in his veins at the
thought of the deadly