nd a captain falling overboard--proposed the
acquittal of the prisoner without further consideration. But the fretful
invalid cried "Stuff!" and the five jurymen who had no opinions of
their own, struck by the admirable brevity with which he expressed his
sentiments, sang out in chorus, "Hear! hear! hear!" The silent juryman,
hitherto overlooked, now attracted attention. He was a bald-headed
person of uncertain age, buttoned up tight in a long frockcoat, and
wearing his gloves all through the proceedings. When the chorus of five
cheered, he smiled mysteriously. Everybody wondered what that smile
meant. The silent juryman kept his opinion to himself. From that moment
he began to exercise a furtive influence over the jury. Even the foreman
looked at him, on resuming the narrative.

"After a certain term of service, gentlemen, during which we learn
nothing to his disadvantage, the prisoner's merits appear to have
received their reward. He was presented with a share in the ship which
he commanded, in addition to his regular salary as master. With these
improved prospects he sailed from Liverpool on his last voyage to
Brazil; and no one, his wife included, had the faintest suspicion that
he left England under circumstances of serious pecuniary embarrassment.
The testimony of his creditors, and of other persons with whom he
associated distinctly proves that his leisure hours on shore had
been employed in card-playing and in betting on horse races. After an
unusually long run of luck, his good fortune seems to have deserted him.
He suffered considerable losses, and was at last driven to borrowing at
a high rate of interest, without any reasonable prospect of being able
to repay the money-lenders into whose hands he had fallen. When he
left Rio on the homeward voyage, there is no sort of doubt that he was
returning to England to face creditors whom he was unable to pay. There,
gentlemen, is a noticeable side to his character which we may call the
gambling side, and which (as I think) was too leniently viewed by the
judge."

He evidently intended to add a word or two more. But the disagreeable
invalid insisted on being heard.

"In plain English," he said, "you are for finding the prisoner guilty."

"In plain English," the foreman rejoined, "I refuse to answer that
question."

"Why?"

"Because it is no part of my duty to attempt to influence the verdict."

"You have been trying to influence the verdict, sir, ever since yo