Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 60: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

402 ring forces, and was both bright and mel- ancholy. Mammy’s trial had been postponed on account of Nita’s illness. An officer had to clear the entrance when Nita entered the court-room with Dr. Richard. Fat old negro women in ample aprons and kerchiefed heads, young octoroons in brilliant cotton gowns and sailor hats, dried-up old negro men in jeans and misfit shoes with toes protruding, and brawny young men in dingy homespun, crowded against the walls of the court-room, a mot- ley fringe around the white friends that filled the seats. From my place down in front I leaned eagerly forward. face, that looked so strained and white against her somber black gown; but glad to see the light of reason in her big, brown eyes, that immediately sought out Mammy. “Lemme git to ma chile, white man!” cried the old woman to a bailiff who re- strained her. Owing to the fact that al- most the entire court, including the digni- fied judge, and prosecuting attorney, were intimate friends of the De Charleus, and had been scolded and petted as little boys by Mammy, she was not inclined to stand in awe of, or to “ mind them.” Impulsive, passionately sympathetic, the crowd rose as if by common consent at sight-of Nita. Order being restored, the tedious business of impaneling a jury began. Randolph sat at a long table in front of the judge’s stand.. I did not see him look once in Nita’s direction. Nor did she look at him. The judge- was pale, and kept turning the pages of a big book. Outside the sun grew hotter as the day advanced, and a lazy, drowsy breeze swept in through the windows without cooling the air. Big palmetto and hand-painted ivory fans, in masculine and feminine hands, were going all over the sweltering room, a constant mass of choppy motion that made one dizzy to watch At last the trial began. The servants, on examination, admitted ~ reluctantly that the dead man had never struck or even spoken crossly to any of them. They, however, had disliked him, I was shocked by Nita’s © ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. for no reason that they could give. What- ever Amédée de Charleu had been to his wife, it was clear that he would not de- mean himself by bickering with his ser- vants. Witness after witness was called by the prosecution to prove that De Charleu had been the soul of courtesy to black and white—but in each case it came out that nobody liked him. Mammy’s contention of cruelty, however, was slowly crumbling away. Clearly other motives were back of the crime. The following day I took the stand for the defense. I was in a panic lest under cross-examination I would tell things that I had determined they should not wring from me. Convinced as I was, that Mam- my was innocent of De Charleu’s murder, I was still not disposed to turn suspicion on the little woman who had suffered so much at the dead man’s hands. I trusted Randolph to get Mammy off somehow. ““Did you see the knife beside M. De Charleu’s body when you first entered the room?” asked William Dorsey, the prose- cuting attorney, when Randolph had fin- ished my examination for the defense. “Yes, I recollect seeing it,” I said, “ though I didn’t think of it at the time.” “Had you see that knife before in the defendant’s room, or in her possession?” ‘“‘T had not been in her room before that night,” I said, “-and I had never seen any knife in Mammy’s possession.” “Had you ever noticed any ill-feeling on the defendant’s part toward her mas- ter?” he asked. “No, she was always most respectful and pleasant toward him.” “Had you any reason to believe that the hatchet was kept in her room for ma- licious purposes?”’ Randolph rose with an objection, which was overruled. “No, I had not,” I Gee “The ‘hatehet was part of the fireplace equip- ment used for splitting kindling on the hearth.” I breathed a sigh of thankfulness when told to stand down. Then Mammy was called by Randolph. She was a pitiable object. Her old, black comnliclooolks.conn