What chance could a man have if his lawyer even didn't
believe in him?"
"None," I answered, sadly. "And you had no chance at all, though
innocent?"
"Yes, I had one, and I chose not to take it. I might have proved myself
_non compos mentis_; but that involved my making a fool of myself in
public before a jury, and I have too much dignity for that, I can tell
you. I told my lawyer that I should prefer a felon's cell to the richly
furnished flat of a wealthy lunatic, to which he replied, 'Then all is
lost!' And so it was. I read my defence in court. The judge laughed, the
jury whispered, and I was convicted instanter of stealing spoons, when
murder itself was no further from my thoughts than theft."
"But they tell me you were caught red-handed," said I. "Were not a
half-dozen spoons found upon your person?"
"In my hand," returned the prisoner. "The spoons were in my hand when I
was arrested, and they were seen there by the owner, by the police, and by
the usual crowd of small boys that congregate at such embarrassing
moments, springing up out of sidewalks, dropping down from the heavens,
swarming in from everywhere.
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