together a long time; and, at last, brought in a
verdict of "GUILTY"; but recommended him to mercy on grounds which might
fairly have been alleged in favor of his innocence; but, if guilty,
rather aggravated his crime.

Then an officer of the court inquired, in a sort of chant or recitative,
whether the prisoner had anything to say why judgment should not be given
in accordance with the verdict.

It is easy to divest words of their meaning by false intonation; and
prisoners in general receive this bit of singsong in dead silence. For
why? the chant conveys no idea to their ears, and they would as soon
think of _replying_ to the notes of a cuckoo.

But the Reverend Robert Penfold was in a keen agony that sharpened all
his senses; he caught the sense of the words in spite of the speaker, and
clung wildly to the straw that monotonous machine held out. "My lord! my
lord!" he cried, "I'll tell you the real reason why young Wardlaw is not
here."

The judge put up his hand with a gesture that enforced silence.
"Prisoner," said he, "I cannot go back to facts; the jury have dealt with
them. Judgment can be arrested only on grounds of law. On these you can
be heard. But, if you have none to offer, you must be silent and submit
to your sentence." He then, without a pause, proceeded to point out the
heinous character of the offense, but admitted there was one mitigating
circumstance; and, in conclusion, he condemned the culprit to five years'
penal servitude.

At this the poor wretch uttered a cry of anguish that was fearful, and
clutched the dock convulsively.

Now a prisoner rarely speaks to a judge without revolting him by bad law,
or bad logic, or hot words. But this wild cry was innocent of all these,
and went straight from the heart in the dock to the heart on the judgment
seat. And so his lordship's voice trembled for a moment, and then became
firm again, but solemn and humane.

"But," said he, "my experience tells me this is your first crime, and may
possibly be your last. I shall therefore use my influence that you may
not be associated with more hardened criminals, but may be sent out of
this country to another, where you may begin life afresh, and, in the
course of years, efface this dreadful stain. Give me hopes of you; begin
your repentance where now you stand, by blaming yourself, and no other
man. No man constrained you to utter a forged note, and to receive the
money; it was found in your possession. For suc