The San Rosario Ranch Part 18

"Put up your veil, please." Three inches of transparent red tulle masked her face from the brow to the mouth. So slight a covering was it that the superior officer had not noticed it; but nothing escaped the lynx-eyed jailer, who added curtly, "Must keep it up all through the prison. No woman is allowed to enter or leave this place veiled."

Millicent looked a little puzzled as she unfastened the bit of lace; and the grim guardian added, in a voice which was something softer than the grating of his key in the lock,--

"You need n't be ashamed to put up your veil, with _such_ a face as yours."

Millicent smiled an acknowledgment of the compliment, and pa.s.sed through the gate, holding fast to the slip of yellow paper and the red ticket which had been given to her, and which were necessary to secure an exit from that precinct which is so easily entered and so difficult to leave.

"You have captivated that grim old fellow with one glance, Miss Almsford. How do you do it?" queried Galbraith.

"What do you mean? I don't," answered Millicent rather inconsistently.

They had by this time reached the prison-yard; and Millicent, with a shiver, looked up at the high, smooth stone walls, with their cruel topping of iron spikes. In a certain angle she stopped a moment, attracted by a little fern which had found place for its slender roots in a cranny of the masonry. She suddenly started, and with a horrified expression ran back a few paces, grown pale to the lips. The warden, who had looked at her with an odd expression, said,--

"You were standing, just now, miss, on the spot where the gallows is always erected."

"I knew it," said the girl, in a shaking voice. "I saw it."

Maurice Galbraith quietly drew her arm under his own, and said gently, but authoritatively,--

"Come, my child, do not be nervous; you have a great deal to go through with to-day."

He fixed his deep, serious eyes on her face for a moment; and the girl, sensitive to his quiet influence, quickly recovered herself.

They pa.s.sed up a narrow, dark stone stair-case, and along a corridor running outside the cells. Most of the heavy wooden doors were open, the outer grating of iron revealing the interior of the cells. In one of these a young mulatto, the Figaro of the village, stood leaning against the bars talking to a respectable-looking man of his own color, who proved to be the pastor of a Methodist church. The young man was a handsome fellow, carefully and neatly dressed. He seemed somewhat excited, and talked in a loud voice, which he lowered at the approach of the party. Galbraith inquired what crime he had been charged with, and learned from the officer that he had wounded his brother mortally in a quarrel; "They both was waitin' on the same gal," the attendant added in explanation. A man lying at full-length upon the floor sprang to his feet as they pa.s.sed his door, and walked furiously up and down the narrow room, shaking his head from side to side, reminding Millicent of a caged panther she had once seen. Each dreary, cramped apartment imprisoned some unfortunate, either suffering the penalty for, or awaiting the judgment of, his crimes. Millicent felt the chill air of the prison damp and fetid upon her cheek, and yet she did not hurry down the corridor, but walked slowly, apparently looking neither to the right nor left, but with one quick, sidelong glance, taking in the details of each of the cells and the faces of the malefactors, impressions which never faded from her memory. Some of the men laughed impudently as the little group pa.s.sed their cells; and one fellow of wild aspect buried his face in his hands, with a sudden movement, as if ashamed of being seen behind the disgraceful bars. A pair of youthful criminals were engaged in playing _moro_, the great Italian gambling game. One of the youths was a native of Italy; and he had evidently taught his companion in confinement the simple but exciting game. No cards or dice, checkers or other paraphernalia, are needed; the game is played with the fingers only. Those of the left hand keep the account of the game. With the right hand a quick movement is made by both players simultaneously, showing a certain number of fingers; while at the same moment each calls out his guess of the number which his antagonist holds up,--"due"--"cinque"--"tutti." The familiar words fell upon Millicent's ears, and she stopped outside the door, her cheeks dyed with a flush of pleasure, her eyes sparkling at the sound of her native language. She did not remember that she was in a prison; she thought of nothing but the fact that here was a compatriot; she spoke to him in a low voice a few words of greeting. The fellow stared at her at first; and then, seeing that hers was a friendly face, left his seat on the corner of the narrow bed, came close to the grate and poured out a torrent of words in the patois of the Venetians. When he learned that the signorina was not only of his country, but from his city, the poor fellow, whose crime had been nothing more than partic.i.p.ation in a street-fight, was moved to tears. Millicent forgot her companions and the strange place of meeting, and listened with sympathizing attention to the story of the man with the dull red-gold hair and white, delicate features, whose face recalled more than one friend in the far-off city of her home. His profession was that of a cobbler, his name Giovanni Brogli. He had drifted out to this strange country through a love of wandering, and had been drawn into a street-brawl by some chance acquaintances, who had robbed him of all that remained of his small fortune; and when he would have fought his betrayers, they turned him over to the police. True or false, the story was a pitiful one. The creature could speak next to no English; and Millicent's tender heart was troubled by the recital of his griefs. She had no money with her, and before either of her companions was aware of her intention, she had untwined a gold serpent of exquisite workmanship from her throat and held it through the bars to the man inside the cell. He looked at her with wondering eyes, and taking the white fingers in his own rough, blackened hand, kissed them reverently, murmuring a blessing which brought tears to her eyes.

"I say, Princess, you must n't do that sort of thing;" said Hal, thoroughly scandalized, pulling her by the sleeve. "Come on! you can't stand talking to these rascals and giving them your jewelry,--it is n't sensible."

She answered impatiently, and then saying a word of farewell to the prisoner, she submitted to be led away from the grate by Galbraith, followed by a fervent parting blessing from Giovanni of the reddish locks.

"I wish you wouldn't be so absurdly soft-hearted. What did you want to give that beggar your lovely necklace for?" said Hal.

"I had no money with me," half penitently.

"Well, I could have let you have some. But it's against the rule. I should n't wonder if you got into trouble for doing such a thing,"

continued the young man, who was genuinely shocked at Millicent's behavior.

"There was no harm done, was there, Mr. Galbraith? I won't be scolded.

It was my serpent; I will do what I choose with my own things, and will not be dictated to by you." Millicent was angry at Deering's very natural interference; and Galbraith, anxious to spare her all annoyance, gave Hal a warning kick, and hurried her towards their destination, lest she should feel moved to part with any more of her personal property for the benefit of the prisoners.

They now entered a small apartment; and Millicent learned that before the opening of the trial, she was called upon to identify the murderer of Ah Lam. The question was asked,--

"Could you identify, on oath, the man you saw at Carey's Bridge? You were under great excitement at the time; you could hardly be expected to remember anything beyond the fact of the killing."

"I am positive I can identify him."

"On oath; are you sure?"

"Perfectly so."

"How could you surely recognize a man you have seen but once, under very painful circ.u.mstances, six weeks ago?"

"I remember his face distinctly; I should know his voice among a thousand."

"Be careful; what you say may be put to the test. What you state in the court you must be able to prove."

"I am ready to prove it."

When the moment came for the identification of the prisoner, Millicent's eyes were bandaged; and twelve men filed into the room, among whom she was told was the man arrested for the crime. As she had made the a.s.sertion that his voice alone would betray the murderer to her, she was asked to listen to a sentence repeated in turn by each of these men.

Three of them had said the stipulated words, and the fourth was about to speak, when those who were nearest to Millicent noticed that she shuddered violently.

"Let the next man speak."

The fellow looked at Millicent askance, and then repeated the sentence in a low, unnatural voice. He had said but three words when she interrupted him.

"The person who is now speaking is the man who a.s.saulted me at Carey's Bridge."

The judge, who had taken a keen interest in all Millicent had said, now motioned to the men to change places. The bandage being removed, she glanced at the row of men and said,--

"He now stands at the end of the row nearest the window."

Her expression, as she turned her eyes and looked in the face of Daniel Horton, was cold and set as that of one of the younger Fates. Aversion and horror were therein painted. As she spoke she pointed at the guilty wretch, who moved uneasily under her gaze, and dropped his bold eyes before the light in her gray orbs, as if their fire scorched him.

The preliminaries accomplished, all the partic.i.p.ants adjourned to the court-room, which was a bare apartment, very grimy, and sadly in need of paint and soapsuds. At one end was a slightly raised table, behind which the judge seated himself. He was a singular-looking man, and wore his hair long, in greasy ringlets falling as far as the coat-collar.

His stout person was adorned with a large amount of rather flashy jewelry, and a pink cravat was supplemented by a bunch of fuchsias worn in the b.u.t.ton-hole. The s.p.a.ce in front of the bench was railed in by an iron bal.u.s.trade painted green. At the long tables sat groups of men busily engaged in writing or in conversation. A policeman standing near the judge's desk, when the clamor in the court-room became unusually loud, pounded on the floor with his club, whereat the voices grew lower for a brief s.p.a.ce, and then the hubbub began again. Somebody seemed to be addressing the court, though Millicent thought that no one paid much attention to him. The entrance of the prosecuting council in the case of manslaughter soon to be called, with two of the chief witnesses, made some stir; and Millicent was conscious, as she took her place, that the eyes of all present were fixed upon her. She looked wonderingly about the dismal apartment, with its dirty wooden settles and bare floor, at the judge on the bench, and at the crowd of poorly dressed people in the seats behind her. Galbraith now entered the little pen, and, seating himself at the table, proceeded to look through some papers which his clerk handed to him, while the man who was haranguing the court continued his discourse, in which n.o.body seemed to take any interest.

Millicent had never been in court before. Her only experience of the abodes of justice had been the long afternoons pa.s.sed in the court-rooms of the Doge's palace, studying the frescoes and beautiful carvings of those famous apartments. She had always invested the precincts of justice with a vague majesty and splendor. A judge, in her imagination, was a stately man clothed in crimson and ermine, with grave, reverend features, majestic in mien, deliberate in speech. When Hal pointed out Judge Croley, as one of the most distinguished of American jurists, she was greatly astonished.

"Will he try the case in that dress?"

"Oh, yes; I heard Croley condemn a man to death in very much the same costume as that which he wears to-day. The cravat was a little brighter pink, I think; and I remember he wore carnations in his b.u.t.ton-hole. He said in a pleasant, nonchalant voice, very much the tone he would use in ordering his farmer to kill a pair of chickens, 'You are condemned to be taken to the San Bernardino prison, there to be hanged by the neck until you are dead, on the third day of May at twelve o'clock; and may G.o.d have mercy upon your soul!'"

Millicent shuddered as she heard the case called, and faltered for the first time in her desire to see justice done to the murderer of Ah Lam.

It is such a terrible responsibility, the taking of life; can man's law make it guiltless? The great question which all of modern thought has not yet solved, troubled the mind of the young woman, who could accept no judgment or creed on faith; she painfully and laboriously solved the problems of life by the force of her own reasoning.

"There is Pierson, the counsel for the defence," whispered Hal, as a little man strutted up the aisle between the benches full of people, and entered the green-railed enclosure. He was perhaps the most grotesque-looking person Millicent had ever seen. His height could not have been above five feet; and this, with his small hands and feet, gave him an exceedingly effeminate appearance. His small round head was like a ball, on the surface of which little globular eyes and a beak-like nose had been very casually placed. These features did not seem at all a necessary part of the head, which resembled that of a parrot. Before he spoke he put his head on one side, in a bird-like fashion; and he occasionally shook himself, very much as a canary does when anything has ruffled its composure. Millicent had learned from Galbraith that this man was the most prominent criminal lawyer in California. As she looked at his high, narrow forehead and mean, pinched smile she thought that among all the malefactors in San Bernardino prison she had seen no face as bad as that of Pierson, the great criminal lawyer. The prisoner was now brought into the court. After stating his name, age, residence, and occupation, he was asked the question,--

"Are you guilty or not guilty of the wilful murder of Ah Lam at Carey's Bridge, on the afternoon of Wednesday, October 16?"

The noisy court-room had grown perfectly still; and the prisoner's low-spoken answer was heard in the farthest corner with perfect distinctness,--

"Not guilty."

The counsel for the defence now stated that the prisoner acknowledged having been at Carey's Bridge on the day of the murder. He had there seen and spoken to Miss Almsford, but had fled at the approach of some gentlemen of the party. He admitted that he had a.s.saulted Miss Almsford, but pleaded that he had no intention of injuring her.

"What were you doing at the mill?"

"I come there to meet a man as I had 'gaged to."

"What man was it?"