Several of the members of the bar dropped in, and then the judge came in and took his seat.
Reuben had occupied the time in trying to judge, from the faces of the jury, what their verdict was going to be.

They looked sulky and tired.

But as Reuben's eye rested on Jacob Priestley, whom he had at once recognized among the jury, the smith gave him an encouraging wink.

At least, so Reuben thought; but as the next moment he was looking as surly as the rest, he thought that he must have been mistaken.
"Are you agreed, gentlemen, as to the verdict you find in this case ?" the judge asked.
"We are, my lord," the foreman replied.
"Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty ?" "Not guilty, my lord." "Very well, gentlemen," the judge said tartly.

"It is your verdict, not mine." At the foreman's word a thrill had run through the court; for when it was known, the evening before, that eleven were one way and one the other, the belief had been general that the majority were for a conviction.