g upon the verge of
existence, depending upon the single word of 'Guilty.' This painful
silence, this harrowing suspense, was at last broken by a restrained sob
from a female; but, owing to the obscurity involving the body of the
court, her person could not be distinguished. The wail of woman so
unexpected--for who could there be of that sex interested in the fate of
these desperate men?--touched the heart of its auditors, and appeared to
sow the first seeds of compassionate and humane feeling among those who
had hitherto expressed and felt nothing but indignation towards the
prisoners.

The judge upon the bench, the counsel at the bar, and the jury
impannelled in their box, felt the force of the appeal; and it softened
down the evil impression created by the address of Hawkhurst against the
youthful Francisco. The eyes of all were now directed towards the one
doubly accused--accused not only by the public prosecutor, but even by
his associate in crime--and the survey was favourable. They acknowledged
that he was one whose personal qualities might indeed challenge the love
of woman in his pride, and her lament in his disgrace; and as their
regard was directed towards him, the sun, which had been obscured, now
pierced through a break in the mass of clouds, and threw a portion of
his glorious beams from a window opposite upon him, and him alone, while
all the other prisoners who surrounded him were buried more or less in
deep shadow. It was at once evident that his associates were bold yet
commonplace villains--men who owed their courage, their only virtue
perhaps, to their habits, to their physical organisation, or the
influence of those around them. They were mere human butchers, with the
only adjunct that, now that the trade was to be exercised upon
themselves, they could bear it with sullen apathy--a feeling how far
removed from true fortitude! Even Hawkhurst, though more commanding than
the rest, with all his daring mien and scowl of defiance, looked nothing
more than a distinguished ruffian. With the exception of Francisco, the
prisoners had wholly neglected their personal appearance; and in them
the squalid and sordid look of the mendicant seemed allied with the
ferocity of the murderer.

Francisco was not only an exception, but formed a beautiful contrast to
the others; and as the evening beams lighted up his figure, he stood at
the bar, if not with all the splendour of a hero of romance, certainly a
most pictur