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Chapter 20

      “Come on round here, son, I got something that’ll settle your stomach.”

  As Mr. Dolphus Raymond was an evil man I accepted his invitation reluctantly, but Ifollowed Dill. Somehow, I didn’t think Atticus would like it if we became friendly with Mr.

  Raymond, and I knew Aunt Alexandra wouldn’t.

  “Here,” he said, offering Dill his paper sack with straws in it. “Take a good sip, it’llquieten you.”

  Dill sucked on the straws, smiled, and pulled at length.

  “Hee hee,” said Mr. Raymond, evidently taking delight in corrupting a child.

  “Dill, you watch out, now,” I warned.

  Dill released the straws and grinned. “Scout, it’s nothing but Coca-Cola.”

  Mr. Raymond sat up against the tree-trunk. He had been lying on the grass. “You littlefolks won’t tell on me now, will you? It’d ruin my reputation if you did.”

  “You mean all you drink in that sack’s Coca-Cola? Just plain Coca-Cola?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Mr. Raymond nodded. I liked his smell: it was of leather, horses,cottonseed. He wore the only English riding boots I had ever seen. “That’s all I drink,most of the time.”

  “Then you just pretend you’re half—? I beg your pardon, sir,” I caught myself. “I didn’tmean to be—”

  Mr. Raymond chuckled, not at all offended, and I tried to frame a discreet question:

  “Why do you do like you do?”

  “Wh—oh yes, you mean why do I pretend? Well, it’s very simple,” he said. “Some folksdon’t—like the way I live. Now I could say the hell with ‘em, I don’t care if they don’t likeit. I do say I don’t care if they don’t like it, right enough—but I don’t say the hell with ’em,see?”

  Dill and I said, “No sir.”

  “I try to give ‘em a reason, you see. It helps folks if they can latch onto a reason. WhenI come to town, which is seldom, if I weave a little and drink out of this sack, folks cansay Dolphus Raymond’s in the clutches of whiskey—that’s why he won’t change hisways. He can’t help himself, that’s why he lives the way he does.”

  “That ain’t honest, Mr. Raymond, making yourself out badder’n you are already—”

  “It ain’t honest but it’s mighty helpful to folks. Secretly, Miss Finch, I’m not much of adrinker, but you see they could never, never understand that I live like I do becausethat’s the way I want to live.”

  I had a feeling that I shouldn’t be here listening to this sinful man who had mixedchildren and didn’t care who knew it, but he was fascinating. I had never encountered abeing who deliberately perpetrated fraud against himself. But why had he entrusted uswith his deepest secret? I asked him why.

  “Because you’re children and you can understand it,” he said, “and because I heardthat one—”

  He jerked his head at Dill: “Things haven’t caught up with that one’s instinct yet. Lethim get a little older and he won’t get sick and cry. Maybe things’ll strike him as being—not quite right, say, but he won’t cry, not when he gets a few years on him.”

  “Cry about what, Mr. Raymond?” Dill’s maleness was beginning to assert itself.

  “Cry about the simple hell people give other people—without even thinking. Cry aboutthe hell white people give colored folks, without even stopping to think that they’repeople, too.”

  “Atticus says cheatin‘ a colored man is ten times worse than cheatin’ a white man,” Imuttered. “Says it’s the worst thing you can do.”

  Mr. Raymond said, “I don’t reckon it’s—Miss Jean Louise, you don’t know your pa’snot a run-of-the-mill man, it’ll take a few years for that to sink in—you haven’t seenenough of the world yet. You haven’t even seen this town, but all you gotta do is stepback inside the courthouse.”

  Which reminded me that we were missing nearly all of Mr. Gilmer’s cross-examination.

  I looked at the sun, and it was dropping fast behind the store-tops on the west side ofthe square. Between two fires, I could not decide which I wanted to jump into: Mr.

  Raymond or the 5th Judicial Circuit Court. “C’mon, Dill,” I said. “You all right, now?”

  “Yeah. Glad t’ve metcha, Mr. Raymond, and thanks for the drink, it was mightysettlin‘.”

  We raced back to the courthouse, up the steps, up two flights of stairs, and edged ourway along the balcony rail. Reverend Sykes had saved our seats.

  The courtroom was still, and again I wondered where the babies were. Judge Taylor’scigar was a brown speck in the center of his mouth; Mr. Gilmer was writing on one of theyellow pads on his table, trying to outdo the court reporter, whose hand was jerkingrapidly. “Shoot,” I muttered, “we missed it.”

  Atticus was halfway through his speech to the jury. He had evidently pulled somepapers from his briefcase that rested beside his chair, because they were on his table.

  Tom Robinson was toying with them.

  “…absence of any corroborative evidence, this man was indicted on a capital chargeand is now on trial for his life…”

  I punched Jem. “How long’s he been at it?”

  “He’s just gone over the evidence,” Jem whispered, “and we’re gonna win, Scout. Idon’t see how we can’t. He’s been at it ‘bout five minutes. He made it as plain and easyas—well, as I’da explained it to you. You could’ve understood it, even.”

  “Did Mr. Gilmer—?”

  “Sh-h. Nothing new, just the usual. Hush now.”

  We looked down again. Atticus was speaking easily, with the kind of detachment heused when he dictated a letter. He walked slowly up and down in front of the jury, andthe jury seemed to be attentive: their heads were up, and they followed Atticus’s routewith what seemed to be appreciation. I guess it was because Atticus wasn’t a thunderer.

  Atticus paused, then he did something he didn’t ordinarily do. He unhitched his watchand chain and placed them on the table, saying, “With the court’s permission—”

  Judge Taylor nodded, and then Atticus did something I never saw him do before orsince, in public or in private: he unbuttoned his vest, unbuttoned his collar, loosened histie, and took off his coat. He never loosened a scrap of his clothing until he undressed atbedtime, and to Jem and me, this was the equivalent of him standing before us starknaked. We exchanged horrified glances.

  Atticus put his hands in his pockets, and as he returned to the jury, I saw his goldcollar button and the tips of his pen and pencil winking in the light.

  “Gentlemen,” he said. Jem and I again looked at each other: Atticus might have said,“Scout.” His voice had lost its aridity, its detachment, and he was talking to the jury as ifthey were folks on the post office corner.

  “Gentlemen,” he was saying, “I shall be brief, but I would like to use my remaining timewith you to remind you that this case is not a difficult one, it requires no minute sifting ofcomplicated facts, but it does require you to be sure beyond all reasonable doubt as tothe guilt of the defendant. To begin with, this case should never have come to trial. Thiscase is as simple as black and white.

  “The state has not produced one iota of medical evidence to the effect that the crimeTom Robinson is charged with ever took place. It has relied instead upon the testimonyof two witnesses whose evidence has not only been called into serious question oncross-examination, but has been flatly contradicted by the defendant. The defendant isnot guilty, but somebody in this courtroom is.

  “I have nothing but pity in my heart for the chief witness for the state, but my pity doesnot extend so far as to her putting a man’s life at stake, which she has done in an effortto get rid of her own guilt.

  “I say guilt, gentlemen, because it was guilt that motivated her. She has committed nocrime, she has merely broken a rigid and time-honored code of our society, a code sosevere that whoever breaks it is hounded from our midst as unfit to live with. She is thevictim of cruel poverty and ignorance, but I cannot pity her: she is white. She knew fullwell the enormity of her offense, but because her desires were stronger than the codeshe was breaking, she persisted in breaking it. She persisted, and her subsequentreaction is something that all of us have known at one time or another. She didsomething every child has done—she tried to put the evidence of her offense away fromher. But in this case she was no child hiding stolen contraband: she struck out at hervictim—of necessity she must put him away from her—he must be removed from herpresence, from this world. She must destroy the evidence of her offense.

  “What was the evidence of her offense? Tom Robinson, a human being. She must putTom Robinson away from her. Tom Robinson was her daily reminder of what she did.

  What did she do? She tempted a Negro.

  “She was white, and she tempted a Negro. She did something that in our society isunspeakable: she kissed a black man. Not an old Uncle, but a strong young Negro man.

  No code mattered to her before she broke it, but it came crashing down on herafterwards.

  “Her father saw it, and the defendant has testified as to his remarks. What did herfather do? We don’t know, but there is circumstantial evidence to indicate that MayellaEwell was beaten savagely by someone who led almost exclusively with his left. We doknow in part what Mr. Ewell did: he did what any God-fearing, persevering, respectablewhite man would do under the circumstances—he swore out a warrant, no doubt signingit with his left hand, and Tom Robinson now sits before you, having taken the oath withthe only good hand he possesses—his right hand.

  “And so a quiet, respectable, humble Negro who had the unmitigated temerity to ‘feelsorry’ for a white woman has had to put his word against two white people’s. I need notremind you of their appearance and conduct on the stand—you saw them foryourselves. The witnesses for the state, with the exception of the sheriff of MaycombCounty, have presented themselves to you gentlemen, to this court, in the cynicalconfidence that their testimony would not be doubted, confident that you gentlemenwould go along with them on the assumption—the evil assumption—that all Negroes lie,that all Negroes are basically immoral beings, that all Negro men are not to be trustedaround our women, an assumption one associates with minds of their caliber.

  “Which, gentlemen, we know is in itself a lie as black as Tom Robinson’s skin, a lie Ido not have to point out to you. You know the truth, and the truth is this: some Negroeslie, some Negroes are immoral, some Negro men are not to be trusted around women—black or white. But this is a truth that applies to the human race and to no particular raceof men. There is not a person in this courtroom who has never told a lie, who has neverdone an immoral thing, and there is no man living who has never looked upon a womanwithout desire.”

  Atticus paused and took out his handkerchief. Then he took off his glasses and wipedthem, and we saw another “first”: we had never seen him sweat—he was one of thosemen whose faces never perspired, but now it was shining tan.

  “One more thing, gentlemen, before I quit. Thomas Jefferson once said that all menare created equal, a phrase that the Yankees and the distaff side of the Executivebranch in Washington are fond of hurling at us. There is a tendency in this year of grace,1935, for certain people to use this phrase out of context, to satisfy all conditions. Themost ridiculous example I can think of is that the people who run public educationpromote the stupid and idle along with the industrious—because all men are createdequal, educators will gravely tell you, the children left behind suffer terrible feelings ofinferiority. We know all men are not created equal in the sense some people would haveus believe—some people are smarter than others, some people have more opportunitybecause they’re born with it, some men make more money than others, some ladiesmake better cakes than others—some people are born gifted beyond the normal scopeof most men.

  “But there is one way in this country in which all men are created equal—there is onehuman institution that makes a pauper the equal of a Rockefeller, the stupid man theequal of an Einstein, and the ignorant man the equal of any college president. Thatinstitution, gentlemen, is a court. It can be the Supreme Court of the United States or thehumblest J.P. court in the land, or this honorable court which you serve. Our courts havetheir faults, as does any human institution, but in this country our courts are the greatlevelers, and in our courts all men are created equal.

  “I’m no idealist to believe firmly in the integrity of our courts and in the jury system—that is no ideal to me, it is a living, working reality. Gentlemen, a court is no better thaneach man of you sitting before me on this jury. A court is only as sound as its jury, and ajury is only as sound as the men who make it up. I am confident that you gentlemen willreview without passion the evidence you have heard, come to a decision, and restorethis defendant to his family. In the name of God, do your duty.”

  Atticus’s voice had dropped, and as he turned away from the jury he said something Idid not catch. He said it more to himself than to the court. I punched Jem. “What’d hesay?”

  “‘In the name of God, believe him,’ I think that’s what he said.”

  Dill suddenly reached over me and tugged at Jem. “Looka yonder!”

  We followed his finger with sinking hearts. Calpurnia was making her way up themiddle aisle, walking straight toward Atticus.

“过来吧,孩子,我这儿有点东西,吃了心里就舒坦了。”
多尔佛斯?雷蒙德先生不是个好人,所以我不大乐意接受他的邀请,不过还是跟着迪尔过去了。不知怎的,我心里觉得,要是我们跟雷蒙德先生交往,阿迪克斯会不高兴的,至于亚历山德拉姑妈呢,我知道,也会不高兴的。
“喏,”他说着,把他那带有麦秆吸管韵纸袋递给迪尔。“吸一大口你就会平静下来。”
迪尔衔着麦秆吸了一日,脸上漾起了笑容,最后,太融大口地吸了、起来。
“嘻嘻,嘻嘻,”雷蒙德先生笑了。显然,教唆一个小孩干坏事,他很得意。
“迪尔,你得注意点。”我警告说。
迪尔放开吸管,咧嘴一笑。。斯各特,行:是别的,是可口可乐。”
雷蒙德先生一直躺在草地上。这会儿他坐起来,背靠着树干,说:“你们这两个小家伙可别去告发我啊,好吗?不然会坏了我的名声。”
“您是说您从纸袋里喝的都是可口可乐吗?纯粹的可口可乐?”
“是的,小姐。”雷蒙德先生点点头说。我喜欢他身上散发的气味。那是皮革、辕马和棉籽羼杂在一起的气味。他脚上穿着一双英国式马靴。这种马靴我从未见过。“在大多数情况下我只喝可口可乐。”
“那么,您甲日醉醺醺的样子只不过是假装的罗?请原谅我的冒昧,先生,”我意识到说错了话,“我没有打算要……”
雷蒙德先生格格地笑了,一点不见气。我小心谨慎地问他;“您千吗要这样呢?’
“干吗……哦,是的,你是说我干吗要假装醉隰醺的样子?这很简单。”他说,“有的人不喜欢我的生活方式。我可以说让他们见鬼去吧,他们喜不喜欢。我才不在乎呢,的确,我说他们喜欢不喜欢我才不在乎,说了又怎么样?不过,我不会真说他们见鬼去吧。懂吗?”我和迪尔都说:“不懂,先生。”
“你们知道,我没法给他们一个理由,他们弄懂这个理由对他们自己有好处。我一进城来——不过我很少进减,如果进城时走路不稳,还一边从这个袋子里喝若什么,人家可能说,多尔佛斯?雷蒙德掉进威士忌酒瓶里不能自拔了,难怪他老是恶习不改;他克制不住,昕以他就这个样儿生活下去。”
“这样不诚实,雷蒙德先生。本来您在人们的心目中已经够坏了,还要使自己显得更坏。”
“这样是不诚实,但对别人大有好处。芬奇小姐,跟你说实话,其实我不怎么喝酒,但你知道,人家怎么也不会理解,我象现在这样生活是因为我喜欢这样生活。”
我突然感到不应该在这儿听这个坏家伙讲话。这个家伙生了几个混血孩子,还不在乎谁知道这件事。但他却很有趣,我含不得离开。我从未碰见过这样有意自欺欺人的人。但是,他为什么要把他的秘密告诉我们呢?我问他为什么。
“因为你们是小孩,能够理解这个秘密。”他说,“还因为我听到那孩子……”
他把头向迪尔一歪,说:“他还适应不了这样的局面呢,’等他大一点就不会感到恶心,就不会哭鼻子了。可能他会觉得世道不……比方说,不那么对头吧,但他不会哭鼻子,再过几年就不会哭鼻子了。”
“哭什么啊,雷蒙德先生?”迪尔开始显露出他的男子汉气派。
“哭什么,哭有些人想也不想一下就使另一些人痛苦,哭白人给黑人带来无端的苦楚,丝毫不考虑黑人同样是人。”
“阿迪克斯说欺骗黑人比欺骗白人罪还要重十倍。”我咕哝说,“他说那是人世问最大的罪过。”
雷蒙德先生说:“我不认为如此。琼?路易斯小姐,你不知道,你爸爸不是一般的人,得几年以后你才能理解这一点——世上的事你见得太少了’.连这个镇上的事你都没有看够。但是,你现在该做的是回审判厅去。”
这活使我们记起来,我们几乎漏听了吉尔默先生对汤姆的全部盘问。看看太阳,它正在飞快地从广场西边的商店屋顶后面落下去。在两个火坑之间—一雷蒙德先生和第五巡回法庭——我犹豫不决,不知该往哪儿跳。“来吧,迪尔,”我招呼他说,“你现在好了吗?”
“好了。雷蒙德先生,见到您很高兴,谢谢您的可口可乐,真灵I”
我们跑回审判厅,跨上台阶,登上两段楼梯,沿着看台的栏杆挤回去。赛克斯牧师帮我们留着座位。
审判厅里鸦雀无声,我又不知道那些哇哇哭叫的婴儿哪儿去了。泰勒法官的雪茄衔在口中只剩下一个小小的棕色点儿,吉尔默先生坐在桌旁拼命地往一本黄色便笺上写着什么,想比挥笔疾书的法庭记录员记得更详细。“唉,”我喃喃地说,“我们错过了好戏。”~
阿迪克斯正在对陪审团说话。显然,他刚才从身旁公文包里拿出了一些公文,那些公文还摊在桌上,汤姆?鲁宾逊在一旁用手抚弄着。
“……缺乏真凭实据,这个人被指控犯有死罪,正在接受决定生死的审判……”
我捅了杰姆一下。。他说了多久了?”
“刚才他分析了所有的证据,”杰姆轻声对我说,“我们会赢,斯各特。没有不赢的道理。他说了大概五分钟了。整个事情他说得清清楚楚,明明白自,就象我可以向你解释的那样,连你也能听懂。”
“吉尔默先生有没有……?”
“嘘!没有什么新玩意儿,还是老调子。别说话了。”
我们又朝下望去。阿迪克斯流畅自如地讲着话,神情淡漠,象是在口述一封信。他在陪审团面前踱来踱去,陪审员们似乎在聚精会神地听着;他们仰着脑袋,露出欣赏的目光跟随阿迪克斯的步伐转动。我想那是因为阿迪克斯说话平静。
阿迪克斯停了下来,做了一件他平常不做的事。他解开表链,连表一道放在桌子上,说;“请求法庭允许……”
泰勒法官点了点头,阿迪克斯接着做了件我以前和以后都没见他做过的事情——无论是在大庭广众之中或是在私人房间里都没见他做过。他解开背心上的扣子和衣钡上的扣子,松开领结,脱掉上衣。他从来不解开身上的任何穿戴,除非晚上上床睡觉。在我和杰姆看来,他现在这样简直就是一丝不挂地站在我们面前。我们交换了惊奇的眼色。
阿迪克斯把双手揣进口袋里,回到陪审团跟前。我看到他的金色领扣和钢笔、铅笔的一端在灯光下闪闪发亮。
“先生们,”他又开始说话了。我和杰姆的眼光又一次相遇,因为阿迪克斯的口吻与刚才的迥然不同了,他甚至可能用这种口吻叫一声“斯各特”。他的声音不再是平淡冷漠的了。他对陪审员说着说着,好象他们是站在邮局拐角处的一群街坊。
“先生们,”他I兑,“我的话不会说得很长,不过我想借与诸位在一起的剩余的时间提醒诸位,这个案件并不难处理,弄清这件事并不需要对复杂的事实进行仔细的筛选,但是事情本身的确要求诸位一定要有十足的把握才能给被告定罪。首先我要说,这个案子根本就用不着上法庭。它象我们分辨黑白一样的简单。
“原告方面没有提供一丁点儿医学汪据来说明汤姆?鲁宾逊被指控的罪行是曾经发生过的。这个指控仅仅立足于两个证人的证词,而这些所谓证词在盘问中不但漏洞百出,而且遭到被告的断然反驳。被告没有罪,有罪的是正在审判厅的另一个人。
“我对原告方面的主要证人只有满腔的怜悯,但是我的怜悯不能昕任她为开脱自己的罪责而置他人于死地。
“先生们,我说主要证人有罪,是因为罪恶是她的行为动机。她并没有犯法律上的罪,她只不过打破了一条由来已久的严峻的社会准则。这条准则严厉得谁打破了它,谁就小宜生活在我们中问,而必须被赶出去。她是残酷无情的贫穷和愚昧的牺牲品。但是,我又不能怜悯她,因为她是白人。她本来清楚地知道,她违反了社会准则,非同小可,但是她的肉欲胜过她要打破的准则,她执意要打破它,她不顾一切地打破了它。她随后的反应如何,我们大家前前后后都已知道。她作了件每个小孩都做过的事情——企图把自己过错的证据隐藏起来。但是在本案里她绝不是象小孩一样隐藏偷来的赃物,而是向她的受害者发起进攻。她必须把他处置掉}必须把他从她眼前除去;必须把他从这个世界上消灭掉。她必须毁灭自己违反社会准则的证据。
“她违反准则的证据是什么?是汤姆?鲁宾逊,一个活着的人。她必须把汤姆?鲁宾逊从她眼前除去。汤姆-鲁宾逊的存在每天都在使她想起做过什么事情。她做过什么事情?她引诱过一个黑人。
“她是白人,却引诱一个黑人。她做了一件在我们社会里可耻得说不出口的事情:吻一个黑人。不是一个老黑人伯伯,而是一个年轻力壮的黑种男人。她什么准则都不屑一顾}但事过之后,这个社会准则朝她劈头盖脑地压下来。
“她父亲看见了,被告证实了她父亲说的话。父亲后来做了些什么?藐们不知道。但是间接证据表明,梅耶拉?尤厄尔遭到了某人的毒打,而这个人几乎干什么事都是用左手的。我们在一定程度上知道尤厄尔先生做了些什么。他做了任何一个敬奉上帝、意志坚定、讲究体面的白人在同样的情况下,都会做曲事:通过宣誓,使法院对汤姆?鲁宾逊发出拘捕证,他无疑是用左手签的名。汤姆?鲁宾逊现在就坐在你们面前,他刚才是用他仅有的完好的手——他的右手宣誓的。
“于是,一个性格温和的,值得尊重的、恭顺谦卑的、并曾不揣冒昧地可怜过一个白人姑娘的黑人,被迫反驳两个白人。这两个白人在证人席上的神态举止如何,用不着我提醒诸位,因为诸位自己看得一清二楚了。除了梅科姆县的司法官,所有的起诉一方的证人在诸位先生面前,在这个法庭面前,都表现了一种无耻的自信,自信他们的证词不会被怀疑,自信诸位先生会附和他们的假设——一个邪恶的假设:所有的黑人都说谎,所有的黑人都道德败坏,所有的黑人在我们的女人面前都不规矩,这是一个由联想到黑人的智力而建立的假设。
“这个假设,先生们,我们知道,它本身就是黑暗得象汤姆?鲁宾逊的皮肤一样黑的大谎言,一个用不着我来揭穿的火谎言。其实,诸位知道这个道理:有的黑人说谎,有的黑人道德败坏,有的黑人在女人面前——不管是在黑种女人还是在白种女人面前——不规矩。但是,这个道理可以应用于整个人类,而不仅仅限于某一特定的人种。我敢保证,在这个法庭上,没有谁没有撤过谎,没有谁没有做过不道德的事情I在这个世界上,没有一个男人不曾带着肉欲瞧过女人。”
阿迪克斯停顿下来,掏出手帕,把眼镜取下来擦一擦。我们又看到了一件没见过的事,我们从没见他流过汗一他是脸上从不出汗的人,但是现在他晒黑了的脸上布满了晶莹的汗珠。
“先生们,在我结束我的话以前,还有一件事要说。托马斯?杰佛逊说过:所有的人生而平等。这旬名言,北方佬和华盛顿的妇女机构喜欢用来抨击我们。目前,在公元一九三五年的今天有这么一种趋势,那就是有些人不看具体情况,各取所需,断章取义,滥用这旬名言。据我所知,最荒谬的例予是,那些经管公共教育的人,让愚钝、懒惰的孩子与聪明勤奋的孩子一道升学,其理由是,所有的人生而平等。教育家会严肃地告诉你,后进的孩子会因自卑而备受折磨。我们知道,有的人比别的人聪明,有的人有更多的机会,因此运气好一些,有的男人比别的男人会赚钱,有的女人比别的女人会做蛋糕,一言以蔽之,有的人的天赋是大多数正常的人所望尘莫及的。在这个意义上,不是所有的人都生而平等,尽管有人想要我们这样去理解这旬名言。
“但是,在这个国度里,在一个方面,所有的人都生而平等。有一个人类机掏能够使一个穷汉与洛克菲勒甲等,一个笨伯与爱因斯坦平等,一个愚昧无知的人与任何一个大学校长平等。这个人类机构是什么?先生们,它就是法庭。它可以是美利坚合众国的最高法庭,可以是最卑微的兼理一般事务的地方法庭,也可以是诸位为之效力的这个有声誉的法庭。我们的法庭有它的过错——实际上任何人类机构都不可能尽善尽美;但是,在这个国土上,我们的法庭是推崇人类平等的伟大的机构,在我们的法庭上,所有的人生而平等。
“我不是坚信我们的法庭完美无缺和坚信陪审团制度优越无比的理想主义者。这两者我看不是理想的事物,而只是一个起作用的现实存在。先生们,法庭并不比由诸位组成的陪审团的任何一员更完美。法庭只是与其陪审团一样健全,而陪审团只是与其成员一样健全。我相信,诸位先生会不偏不倚地重新审核你们获得的证据,作出决定,让这位被告回到家里去。以上帝的名义履行你们的职责吧。”
阿迪克斯的声音沉下去了。他转身离开陪审团时说了句什么,我没听清楚。那句话与其说是对法庭说的,不如说是对他自己说的。我捅了杰姆一下,“他说什么?”
“以上帝的名义,相信他吧!’我想他是这么说的。”
迪尔突然伸手绕过我拉了杰姆一下。“看那边I”
我们眼睛向他手指的方向一望,几颗心顿时往下一沉。卡尔珀尼亚正沿着中间的过道,径直朝阿迪克斯走去。



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