who clustered round the dock in which the patriot
leader stood, and watched the progress of his trial with beating hearts,
was Mr. James Martin, one of the prisoner's brothers. During the three
long weary days occupied by the trial, his post had been by his
brother's side listening to the proceedings with the anxiety and
solicitude which a brother alone can feel, and revealing by every line
of his countenance the absorbing interest with which he regarded the
issue. The verdict of the jury fell upon him with the bewildering shock
of an avalanche. He was stunned, stupified, amazed; he could hardly
believe that he had heard the fatal words aright, and that "guilty" had
been the verdict returned. _He_ guilty! he whose life was studded by
good deeds as stars stud the wintry sky; _he_ guilty, whose kindly heart
had always a throb for the suffering and the unfortunate, whose hand was
ever extended to shield the oppressed, to succour the friendless, and to
shelter the homeless and the needy; _he_ "inspired by the devil," whose
career had been devoted to an attempt to redress the sufferings of his
fellow-countrymen, and whose sole object in life seemed to be to
abridge the sufferings of the Irish people, to plant the doctrines of
peace and good-will in every heart, and to make Ireland the home of
harmony and concord, by rendering her prosperous and free. It was a lie,
a calumny, a brutal fabrication! It was more than his sense of justice
could endure, it was more than his hot Northern blood could tolerate.
Beckoning a friend, he rushed with him into the street, and drove direct
to the residence of Mr. Waterhouse, the foreman of the jury. The latter
had barely returned from court, when he was waited upon by Mr. Martin,
who indignantly charged him with having bullied the jury into recording
a verdict of guilty--an accusation which current report made against
him--and challenged the astonished juryman to mortal combat. Mr.
Waterhouse was horror-struck by the proposal, to which he gasped out in
response, a threat to call in the police. He never heard of anything so
terribly audacious. He, a loyal Castle tradesman, who had "well and
truly" tried the case according to the recognised acceptance of the
words, and who had "true deliverance made" after the fashion in favour
with the crown; he whose "perspicuity, wisdom, impartiality," &c., had
been appealed to and belauded so often by the Attorney-General, to be
challenged to a hostile mee