The trial came on. The name of the Judge on the bench, the prosecuting Attorney at the bar, or of the twelve good Jurymen in the box, is not of the slightest consequence. Myrmidons of the law, string-pulled puppets of the judicial Punch-and-Judy show, they were there to do their "dooty" and they did their little worst. The fighter of the day,—the great henchman who, standing athwart the breach made by legal might in the rampart of thought, hewed down time-honoured lies and miserable contorsions of truth, as one after another they presented their rat-like heads to the Valiant blade of his memorable oratory, pitiless logic and scathing scorn,—was the Flemisher, Edmond Picard, one of the most extraordinary figures in Belgium for the last fifty odd years, advocate, jurisconsult, traveller, dramatist, poet, swordsman, athlete, aye and—finer than a hundred other titles besides,—a man!
The case of "Escal Vigor" was fought to a finish. After hearing all the witnesses, listening to expert medical evidence on the subject of abnormality, and the impassioned orations, for and against, the Jury came unanimously to their decision. George Eekhoud was acquitted!
This is no place to trace the story of the ebbying
