The House of the White Shadows. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

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he might have sustained a monetary loss, but I dismissed it."

      "A monetary loss would rather exalt than depress him. He is rich-it would have been a great happiness for him if he had been poor. What are termed misfortunes are sometimes real blessings; many fine natures are made to halt on their way by worldly prosperity. Had Christian Almer been born in the lower classes he would have found a worthy occupation; he would have made a name for himself, and in all probability would have won a wife-who would have idolised him. He is a man whom a woman might worship."

      "You have given me a clue," said Jacob Hartrich; "he has met with a disappointment in love."

      "I think not; had he met with such a disappointment I should most surely have heard of it from his own lips."

      Interesting as this conversation was to both the speakers it had now come to a natural break, and Jacob Hartrich, diverging from it, inquired whether the Advocate's visit was likely to be a long one.

      "I have pledged myself," said the Advocate somewhat wearily, "to remain here for at least three months."

      "Rest is a necessary medicine." The Advocate nodded absently. "Pray excuse me while I attend to your affairs. Here are the local and other papers."

      He left the room, and returning soon afterwards found the Advocate engaged in the perusal of a newspaper in which he appeared to be deeply interested.

      "Your business," said Jacob Hartrich, "will occupy about twenty minutes. There are some trifling formalities to be gone through with respect to signatures and stamps. If you are pressed for time I will send to you at your hotel."

      "With your permission I will wait," said the Advocate, laying aside the paper with a thoughtful air.

      Jacob Hartrich glanced at the paper, and saw the heading of the column which the Advocate had perused, "The Murder of Madeline the Flower-girl."

      "You have been reading the particulars of this shocking deed."

      "I have read what is there written."

      "But you are familiar with the particulars; everybody has read them."

      "I am the exception, then. I have seen very few newspapers lately."

      "It was a foul and wicked murder."

      "It appears so, from this bare recital."

      "The foulest and most horrible within my remembrance. Ah! where will not the passions of men lead them?"

      "A wide contemplation. Were men to measure the consequences of their acts before they committed them, certain channels of human events which are now exceedingly wide and turbulent would become narrow and peaceful. It was a girl who was murdered?"

      "Yes."

      "Young?"

      "Barely seventeen."

      "Pretty?"

      "Very pretty."

      "Had she no father to protect her?"

      "No."

      "Nor mother?"

      "No-as far as is known."

      "A flower-girl, I gather from the account."

      "Yes. I have occasionally bought a posy of her-poor child!"

      "Did she trade alone?"

      "She had a companion, an elderly woman, who, unhappily, left her a few days before the murder."

      "Deserted her?"

      "No; it was an amicable parting, intended to last but a short time, I believe. It is not known what called her away."

      "This young flower-girl-was she virtuous?"

      "Undoubtedly, in my belief. She was most modest and child-like."

      "But susceptible to flattery. You hesitate. Why? Do you not judge human passions by human standards? She was young, pretty, in humble circumstances; her very opposite would be susceptible to flattery; therefore, she."

      "Why, yes, of course; I hesitated because it would pain me to say anything concerning her which might be construed into a reproach."

      "In such matters there is but one goal to steer for-the truth. I perceive that a man, Gautran, is in prison, charged with the murder."

      "A man?" exclaimed Jacob Hartrich, with indignant warmth. "A monster, rather! Some refined punishment should be devised to punish him for his crime."

      "His crime! I have, then, been reading an old paper." The Advocate referred to the date. "No-it is this morning's."

      "I see your point, but the proofs of the monster's guilt are irrefragable."

      "What proofs? The statements of newspaper reporters-the idle and mischievous tattle of persons who cannot be put into the witness-box?"

      "It is well that you express yourself to me privately on this matter. In public it would not be credited that you were in earnest."

      "Then the facts are lost sight of that the man has to be tried, that his guilt or innocence has yet to be established."

      "The law cannot destroy facts."

      "The law establishes facts, which are often in danger of being perverted by man's sympathies and prejudices. Are you acquainted with this Gautran?"

      "I have no knowledge of him except from report."

      "And having no knowledge of him, except from report, you form an opinion upon hearsay, and condemn him offhand. It is justice itself, therefore, that is on its trial, not a man accused of a frightful deed. He is already judged. It is stated in the newspaper that the man's appearance is repulsive."

      "He is hideous."

      "Then you have seen him."

      "No."

      "Calmly consider what value can be placed upon your judgment under the circumstances. You say the girl was pretty. Her engaging manners have tempted you to buy posies of her, not always when you needed them. In making this statement of a fact which, trivial as it appears to be, is of importance, I judge a human action by a human standard. Thus, beauty on one side, and a forbidding countenance on the other, may be the means of contributing-nay, of leading-to a direct miscarriage of justice. This should be prevented; justice must have a clear course, which must not be blocked and choked up by passion and prejudice. The opinion you express of Gautran's guilt may be entertained by others to whom he is also a stranger."

      "My opinion is universal."

      "The man, therefore, is universally condemned before he is called upon to answer the charge brought against him. Amidst this storm, in the wild fury of which reason has lost its proper functions, where shall a jury be found to calmly weigh the evidence on either side, and to judge, with ordinary fairness, a miserable wretch accused of a foul crime?"

      "Gautran is a vagabond," said Jacob Hartrich feebly, feeling as though the ground were giving way under his feet, "of the lowest type."

      "He is poor."

      "Necessarily."

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