"But, gentlemen, do you know it is getting on towards five
o'clock?" said one of the jury.
"Well, gentlemen, what are we to say, then?" inquired the
foreman. "Shall we say she is guilty, but without intent to rob?
And without stealing any property? Will that do?" Peter
Gerasimovitch, pleased with his victory, agreed.
"But she must be recommended to mercy," said the merchant.
All agreed; only the old artelshik insisted that they should say
"Not guilty."
"It comes to the same thing," explained the foreman; "without
intent to rob, and without stealing any property. Therefore, 'Not
guilty,' that's evident."
"All right; that'll do. And we recommend her to mercy," said the
merchant, gaily.
They were all so tired, so confused by the discussions, that
nobody thought of saying that she was guilty of giving the powder
but without the intent of taking life. Nekhludoff was so excited
that he did not notice this omission, and so the answers were
written down in the form agreed upon and taken to the court.
Rabelais says that a lawyer who was trying a case quoted all
sorts of laws, read 20 pages of judicial senseless Latin, and
then proposed to the judges to throw dice, and if the numbers
proved odd the defendant would be right, if not, the plaintiff.
It was much the same in this case. The resolution was taken, not
because everybody agreed upon it, but because the president, who
had been summing up at such length, omitted to say what he always
said on such occasions, that the answer might be, "Yes, guilty,
but without the intent of taking life;" because the colonel had
related the story of his brother-in-law's wife at such great
length; because Nekhludoff was too excited to notice that the
proviso "without intent to take life" had been omitted, and
thought that the words "without intent" nullified the conviction;
because Peter Gerasimovitch had retired from the room while the
questions and answers were being read, and chiefly because, being
tired, and wishing to get away as soon as possible, all were
ready to agree with the decision which would bring matters to an
end soonest.
The jurymen rang the bell. The gendarme who had stood outside the
door with his sword drawn put the sword back into the scabbard
and stepped aside. The judges took their seats and the jury came
out one by one.
The foreman brought in the paper with an air of solemnity and
handed it to the president, who looked at it, and, spreading out
his hands in astonishment, turned to consult his companions. The
president was surprised that the jury, having put in a
proviso--without intent to rob--did not put in a second
proviso--without intent to take life. From the decision of the
jury it followed that Maslova had not stolen, nor robbed, and yet
poisoned a man without any apparent reason.