Presently,
among the stupid eyes fixed upon him, Lemuel was aware of the eyes
of that fellow who had passed the counterfeit money on him; and when
this scamp got up and coolly sauntered out of the room, Lemuel was
held in such a spell that he did not hear the charge read against
him, or the clerk's repeated demand, "Guilty or not guilty?"
He was recalled to himself by the voice of the judge. "Young man, do
you understand? Are you guilty of assaulting this lady and taking
her satchel, or not?"
"Not guilty," said Lemuel huskily; and he looked, not at the judge,
but at the pretty girl, who confronted him from a stand at the other
end of the clerk's desk, blushing to find herself there up to her
wide-flung blue eyes. Lemuel blushed too, and dropped his eyes; and
it seemed to him in a crazy kind of way that it was impolite to have
pleaded not guilty against her accusation. He stood waiting for the
testimony which the judge had to prompt her to offer.
"State the facts in regard to the assault," he said gravely.
"I don't know as I can do it, very well," began the girl.
"We shall be satisfied if you do your best," said the judge, with
the glimmer of a smile, which spread to a laugh among the
spectators, unrebuked by the constables, since the judge had invited
it.
In this atmosphere of sympathy the girl found her tongue, and with a
confiding twist, of her pretty head began again: "Well, now, I'll
tell you just how it was.
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