function of the State, begin to see a glimmer of the meaning of the State. So, with shoulders squared, he turned and spoke again.
His appreciation of the presence of that Royle girl came upon him gradually. Some one was seated on the second bench who was bent forward in the intensity of following him; some one—one at least, though a girl and upon the spectators' bench—was beginning to feel that which filled him.
He glanced at her and recognized her.
Half an hour later, when he had finished, he glanced at her again and saw her still leaning forward, her face flushed. There was recess immediately; and Calvin saw her go out, as the court-room was cleared. When court reconvened, she was in her former place on the second bench, where she remained during the address of the defense and throughout the final appeal of the prosecution.
Heminway delivered this for the State, speaking with great emotion for the firemen and their widows. He set the women to sobbing; and several of the jurymen wiped away tears. Heminway, himself, cried.
Calvin did not cry; and, as he sat with his back to the spectators, he wanted to know whether the Royle girl wept. At last, he turned and he saw that tears were in her eyes; but her intensity was gone. She sat, leaning back, relaxed, in contrast to her eagerness when he had been speaking.
After Heminway had finished, the judge briefly charged the jury, who immediately left the court-room. For a few minutes, every one else lingered on the chance that there would be a quick verdict; but soon it became evident that there was disagreement in the jury room, and Calvin accompanied Heminway downstairs to the state's attorney's suite.
Several of the spectators already had departed, but a
