A Fearsome Doubt

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Theprisoner was standing in the dock, face strained, eyes on the foreman of the jury. His fingers gripped the wooden railing, white-knuckled, as he tried to hear the portly, gray-haired man in the jurors’ box reading the verdict. But the roaring in his ears as his heart pounded hard enough to suffocate him seemed to shut out the words. He swallowed hard, then leaned forward a little, concentrating on the juror’s lips.

“-guilty on all charges-”

The foreman’s voice rose on the last four words, as if he found them distasteful, his glance furtively flicking toward the accused and away again. A greengrocer, he was not sympathetic to theft and murder.

The prisoner’s face swung toward the judge as he lifted the black silk square and settled it neatly on his heavy white wig, prepared to pass sentence.

“… taken from this place… hung by the neck…”

The prisoner blanched, and turned in anguish toward his wife, seated in the gallery watching, her gloved hands clenched tightly in her lap.

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