othing; everything seemed to swim
before her except the broad face of that burly barrister. "Has she
given any answer?" he asked of the mouthpiece; and the mouthpiece
again shook his head. The heart of the mouthpiece was tender, and he
was beginning to hate the burly barrister. "My dear," said the burly
barrister, "the jury must have the information from you."

Then gradually there was heard through the court the gurgling sounds
of irrepressible sobs,--and with them there came a moan from the old
man, who was only divided from his daughter by the few steps,--which
was understood by the whole crowd. The story of the poor girl, in
reference to the trial, had been so noised about that it was known
to all the listeners. That spark of sympathy, of which we have said
that its course cannot be arrested when it once finds its way into
a crowd, had been created, and there was hardly present then one,
either man or woman, who would not have prayed that Carry Brattle
might be spared if it were possible. There was a juryman there, a
father with many daughters, who thought that it might not misbecome
him to put forward such a prayer himself.

"Perhaps it mayn't be necessary," said the soft-hearted juryman.

But the burly barrister was not a man who liked to be taught his duty
by any one in court,--not even by a juryman,--and his quick intellect
immediately told him that he must seize the spark of sympathy in
its flight. It could not be stopped, but it might be turned to his
own purpose. It would not suffice for him now that he should simply
defend the question he had asked. The court was showing its aptitude
for pathos, and he also must be pathetic on his own side. He knew
well enough that he could not arrest public opinion which was going
against him, by shewing that his question was a proper question; but
he might do so by proving at once how tender was his own heart.

"It is a pain and grief to me," said he, "to bring sorrow upon
any one. But look at those prisoners at the bar, whose lives are
committed to my charge, and know that I, as their advocate, love them
while they are my clients as well as any father can love his child. I
will spend myself for them, even though it may be at the risk of the
harsh judgment of those around me. It is my duty to prove to the jury
on their behalf that the life of this young woman has been such as
to invalidate her testimony against them;--and that duty I shall do,
fearless of the remarks o