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Greater Love Hath No Man. Frank Lucius Packard
Читать онлайн.Название Greater Love Hath No Man
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4064066085520
Автор произведения Frank Lucius Packard
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
"Try," said Randall.
"Ain't no use to try. I can't," repeated Malloch.
"Try," insisted Randall.
Malloch rose from his chair, took the bar, swung it over his shoulders and strained with it against his thick bull-neck, then against the floor, across his knees, across his chest. His face was purple as he shook his head and, handing it back, sat down.
Straight then, Randall strode to the witness box and extended the bar to Varge. His face was flushed with emotion and he swept the hair, straggling into his eyes, away with a jerky motion of his hand, but his voice rose vibrant, strong with triumph.
"Varge, as you stand there you have the same opportunity to accomplish what you must have done as you had that night. If you are guilty, you bent this bar. Show the jury how you did it."
Varge took it quietly from the other's hands.
"John," he said, in a low, grave undertone, "I am guilty. Have you forgotten what happened in the cell this morning?"
A sudden, startled look flashed into Randall's eyes, the colour fled from his face leaving him deadly pale, and he stumbled back a step.
Varge raised the bar.
Neither court nor courtroom officers could stop it—as one, from the rear bench to the front, men rose to their feet and craned forward.
The veins on Varge's neck and wrists were standing out like great knotted cords, his wrists seemed to go as white as the colour of milk, a sweat bead burst from his forehead, then another—and the bar was straight in his hands.
The wild confusion died finally away in a sullen murmur. Five, ten minutes passed. Voices, somehow incongruous, unnatural, broke the otherwise tense silence—those of the judge, the district attorney, and once Randall's in a broken plea for clemency to the jury. And then Varge stood up to face the twelve men who had not left the box, and the single, ominous words fell from the foreman's lips.
"Guilty."
The district attorney rose from his chair.
"May it please the court, it becomes my duty to move that sentence be passed upon the prisoner, and I so move."
Judge Crosswaite, too, had risen, and a stillness, awed, more intense than any that had preceded it, was upon the room, as he spoke.
"Varge, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed upon you?"
"Nothing," Varge answered, in a low voice—and bowed his head.
"The extreme penalty under the statutes of this Commonwealth for the crime you have committed," said Judge Crosswaite, in stern, grave tones, "is death. But your previous record, your voluntary confession, seem to me just grounds for invoking the mercy of the law." There was a pause, then came the solemn words: "The sentence of this court is that you be taken to the town of Hebron and be there confined in the State Penitentiary for the rest of your natural life."
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