In a weak moment the Government Advocate asked
one question too many, "Beggin' your pardon, sir," Ortheris
replied, "'e was callin' me a dam' impudent little lawyer." The
Court shook. The jury brought it in a killing, but with every
provocation and extenuation known to God or man, and the Judge put
his hand to his brow before giving sentence, and the Adam's apple
in the prisoner's throat went up and down mercury-pumping before a
cyclone.
In consideration of all considerations, from his Commanding
Officer's certificate of good conduct to the sure loss of pension,
service, and honour, the prisoner would get two years, to be
served in India, and - there need be no demonstration in Court.
The Government Advocate scowled and picked up his papers; the
guard wheeled with a clash, and the prisoner was relaxed to the
Secular Arm, and driven to the jail in a broken-down ticca-gharri.
His guard and some ten or twelve military witnesses, being less
important, were ordered to wait till what was officially called
the cool of the evening before marching back to cantonments. They
gathered together in one of the deep red brick verandahs of a
disused lock-up and congratulated Ortheris, who bore his honours
modestly.
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