The Complete Short Stories of Mark Twain (Illustrated). Mark Twain
has failed. Are they both to escape justice on that account? Not in this court, if I can prevent it. It appears to have been a mistake to bring the charge against them as a corporation; each should have been charged in his capacity as an individual, and—”
“But, your honor!” said Wilson, “in fairness to my clients I must insist that inasmuch as the prosecution did not separate the—”
“No wrong will be done your clients, sir—they will be protected; also the public and the offended laws. Mr. Allen, you will amend your pleadings, and put one of the accused on trial at a time.”
Wilson broke in: “But, your honor! this is wholly unprecedented! To imperil an accused person by arbitrarily altering and widening the charge against him in order to compass his conviction when the charge as originally brought promises to fail to convict, is a thing unheard of before.”
“Unheard of where?”
“In the courts of this or any other state.”
The judge said with dignity: “I am not acquainted with the customs of other courts, and am not concerned to know what they are. I am responsible for this court, and I cannot conscientiously allow my judgment to be warped and my judicial liberty hampered by trying to conform to the caprices of other courts, be they—”
“But, your honor, the oldest and highest courts in Europe—”
“This court is not run on the European plan, Mr. Wilson; it is not run on any plan but its own. It has a plan of its own; and that plan is, to find justice for both State and accused, no matter what happens to be practice and custom in Europe or anywhere else.” (Great applause.) “Silence! It has not been the custom of this court to imitate other courts; it has not been the custom of this court to take shelter behind the decisions of other courts, and we will not begin now. We will do the best we can by the light that God has given us, and while this court continues to have His approval, it will remain indifferent to what other organizations may think of it.” (Applause.) “Gentlemen, I must have order!—quiet yourselves! Mr. Allen, you will now proceed against the prisoners one at a time. Go on with the case.”
Allen was not at his ease. However, after whispering a moment with his client and with one or two other people, he rose and said:
“Your honor, I find it to be reported and believed that the accused are able to act independently in many ways, but that this independence does not extend to their legs, authority over their legs being vested exclusively in the one brother during a specific term of days, and then passing to the other brother for a like term, and so on, by regular alternation. I could call witnesses who would prove that the accused had revealed to them the existence of this extraordinary fact, and had also made known which of them was in possession of the legs yesterday—and this would, of course, indicate where the guilt of the assault belongs—but as this would be mere hearsay evidence, these revelations not having been made under oath—”
“Never mind about that, Mr. Allen. It may not all be hearsay. We shall see. It may at least help to put us on the right track. Call the witnesses.”
“Then I will call Mr. John Buckstone, who is now present, and I beg that Mrs. Patsy Cooper may be sent for. Take the stand, Mr. Buckstone.”
Buckstone took the oath, and then testified that on the previous evening the Count Angelo Capello had protested against going to the hall, and had called all present to witness that he was going by compulsion and would not go if he could help himself. Also, that the Count Luigi had replied sharply that he would go, just the same, and that he, Count Luigi, would see to that himself. Also, that upon Count Angelo’s complaining about being kept on his legs so long, Count Luigi retorted with apparent surprise, “Your legs!—I like your impudence!”
“Now we are getting at the kernel of the thing,” observed the judge, with grave and earnest satisfaction. “It looks as if the Count Luigi was in possession of the battery at the time of the assault.”
Nothing further was elicited from Mr. Buckstone on direct examination. Mr. Wilson took the witness.
“Mr. Buckstone, about what time was it that that conversation took place?”
“Toward nine yesterday evening, sir.”
“Did you then proceed directly to the hall?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How long did it take you to go there?”
“Well, we walked; and as it was from the extreme edge of the town, and there was no hurry, I judge it took us about twenty minutes, maybe a trifle more.”
“About what hour was the kick delivered?”
“About thirteen minutes and a half to ten.”
“Admirable! You are a pattern witness, Mr. Buckstone. How did you happen to look at your watch at that particular moment?”
“I always do it when I see an assault. It’s likely I shall be called as a witness, and it’s a good point to have.”
“It would be well if others were as thoughtful. Was anything said, between the conversation at my house and the assault, upon the detail which we are now examining into?”
“No, sir.”
“If power over the mutual legs was in the possession of one brother at nine, and passed into the possession of the other one during the next thirty or forty minutes, do you think you could have detected the change?”
“By no means!”
“That is all, Mr. Buckstone.”
Mrs. Patsy Cooper was called. The crowd made way for her, and she came smiling and bowing through the narrow human lane, with Betsy Hale, as escort and support, smiling and bowing in her wake, the audience breaking into welcoming cheers as the old favorites filed along. The judge did not check this kindly demonstration of homage and affection, but let it run its course unrebuked.
The old ladies stopped and shook hands with the twins with effusion, then gave the judge a friendly nod, and bustled into the seats provided for them. They immediately began to deliver a volley of eager questions at the friends around them: “What is this thing for?” “What is that thing for?” “Who is that young man that’s writing at the desk? Why, I declare, it’s Jack Bunce! I thought he was sick.” “Which is the jury? Why, is that the jury? Billy Price and Job Turner, and Jack Lounsbury, and—well, I never!” “Now who would ever ‘a’ thought—”
But they were gently called to order at this point, and asked not to talk in court. Their tongues fell silent, but the radiant interest in their faces remained, and their gratitude for the blessing of a new sensation and a novel experience still beamed undimmed from their eyes. Aunt Patsy stood up and took the oath, and Mr. Allen explained the point in issue, and asked her to go on now, in her own way, and throw as much light upon it as she could. She toyed with her reticule a moment or two, as if considering where to begin, then she said:
“Well, the way of it is this. They are Luigi’s legs a week at a time, and then they are Angelo’s, and he can do whatever he wants to with them.”
“You are making a mistake, Aunt Patsy Cooper,” said the judge. “You shouldn’t state that as a fact, because you don’t know it to be a fact.”
“What’s the reason I don’t?” said Aunt Patsy, bridling a little.
“What is the reason that you do know it?”
“The best in the world because they told me.”
“That isn’t a reason.”
“Well, for the land’s sake! Betsy Hale, do you hear that?”
“Hear it? I should think so,” said Aunt Betsy, rising and facing the court. “Why, Judge, I was there and heard it myself. Luigi says to Angelo—no, it was Angelo said it to—”
“Come, come, Mrs. Hale, pray sit down, and—”
“Certainly,