It could not have come at a more timely moment!"
The judge seemed to dismiss Fentress contemptuously. Once more
he faced the packed benches. "Put down your weapons!" he
commanded. "This man Murrell will not be released. At the first
effort at rescue he will be shot where he sits--we have sworn it
--his plotting is at an end." He stalked nearer the benches.
"Not one chance in a thousand remains to him. Either he dies
here or he lives to betaken before every judge in the state, if
necessary, until we find one with courage to try him! Make no
mistake--it will best conserve the ends of justice to allow the
state court's jurisdiction in this case; and I pledge myself to
furnish evidence which will start him well on his road to the
gallows!" The judge, a tremendous presence, stalked still nearer
the benches. Outfacing the crowd, a sense of the splendor of the
part he was being called upon to play flowed through him like
some elixir; he felt that he was transcending himself, that his
inspiration was drawn from the hidden springs of the spirit, and
that he could neither falter nor go astray. "You don't know what
you are meddling with! This man has plotted to lay the South in
ruins--he has been arming the negroes--it--it is incredible that
you should all know this--to such I say, go home and thank God
for your escape! For the others"--his shaggy brows met in a
menacing frown--"if they force our hand we will toss them John
Murrell's dead carcass--that's our answer to their challenge!"
He strode out among the gun muzzles which wavered where they
still covered him.
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