Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

910 even the memory of the man who had de- stroyed it—take that one chance in a mil- lion to convince twelve fellow beings that her husband’s blood was not upon her hands, : The court room beyond buzzed like a swarm of furious bees, then a moment’s pause ensued, to be followed by a subdued droning, and still Claudia waited, standing tall and motionless beside her stolid guard. All at once the stout man in uniform bent to listen at the door, straightened, nodded, and with an unconsciously dramatic gesture flung it wide. The time had come for the prisoner's entrance. Incongruously, Claudia was again re- minded of her wedding day, for the second appearance before a multitude as the cyno- sure of all eves was heralded by the same rippling stir and then tense silence. The creat room was packed to the entrance doors, but the assemblage was mostly of men, although in the rows of spectators bright autumnal hats and gowns with here and there the flash of a jewel revealed the presence of her own sex. In the front row nearest the counsels’ table the first familiar face to catch Claudia’s slowly moving gaze was the friendly one of Mrs. Yates, smiling encour- agement; midway behind her Mrs. Sears Edgett stared through her lorgnon with avid curiosity undisguised, and at her side Dicky Tewson lounged with a supercilious smile on his thin lips. Far at the rear a dark, little face beneath a hideous erec- tion of flaring red roses nodded vigorously and a thin, clawlike hand waved once in fervid greeting: Rosa Baracca had come back to the scene of her own late ordeal to lend her doubtful support to this other eirl, who had been kind to her. Walking with steady, almost mechanical steps Claudia had reached her chair beside the counsels’ table before she realized it. Dreyer bowed with a grave dignity she had never seen in his manner during their pre- vious meetings and Matthew Rowe shook her hand with his most fatherly air, al- though both had left her only a few minutes before. At last she raised her eyes to the judge’s bench. What was he like, this man who ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. would have the final, momentous words to say to her? Would he be stern, forbidding, ruthless or had he preserved, in spite of the ignoble tragedies which passed in daily re- view before him, a little warm, kindly, human faith? She saw a waxen, almost bloodless coun- tenance, the thin cheeks and straight but mabile lips clean-shaven, and keen, inscru- table gray eyes beneath scanty white hair. There was nothing definite enough to be ruthless, nothing animate enough to reveal the possibility of sympathetic forbearance in his aloof, meditative gaze, and his eyes met hers and passed on as though she were a mere spectator. Claudia’s breast rose and fell in a quick little sigh and she glanced away, toward an inclosure, behind the rail of which a close- packed group of men, mostly young, sat writing furiously. Among them a solitary woman with short, iron-gray hair bent for- ward to catch her eye, but Claudia had dropped hers to the slim hands, ringless save for the narrow circlet of platinum, which lay quietly in her lap. Her thoughts had gone back to the judge. What dictum would issue from those pale, straight lips when the curtain fell? Would he set her free or pronounce a few irrevoca- ble words which would send her to a living death? Her own lips moved slightly, but no sound came from them, and presently she became aware that some one was bark- ing out a series of names in a short, peremp- tory voice with monosyllabic responses from a cluster of individuals of widely diversi- fied types whose sole attribute in common appeared to be a cloak of self-consciousness. With a sense of sudden shock Claudia realized that these were the talesmen from among whom the jury box would be filled; amid this group stood twelve who would hold in their hands the power to clear her name or blacken it forever! She longed to scan their faces, but the consciousness that the eyes of most of them were upon her made her look down once more after that startled, lightning glance. There would be time enough to study them when the twelve alone confronted her. What was that odd wheel, like a game of chance? Claudia looked quickly at COMmMICLoO (© im