An American Tragedy - Theodore Dreiser [359]
And then a flight of five brown stone steps leading up to an old courthouse door. And beyond that, an inner flight of steps to a large, long, brown, high-ceilinged chamber, in which, to the right and left, and in the rear facing east, were tall, thin, round-topped windows, fitted with thin panes, admitting a flood of light. And at the west end, a raised platform, with a highly ornamental, dark brown carved bench upon it. And behind it, a portrait—and on either side, north and south, and at the rear, benches and benches in rows—each tier higher than the other, and all crowded with people, the space behind them packed with standing bodies, and all apparently, as he entered, leaning and craning and examining him with sharp keen eyes, while there went about a conversational buzz or brrh. He could hear a general sssss—pppp—as he approached and passed through a gate to an open space beyond it, wherein, as he could see, were Belknap and Jephson at a table, and between them a vacant chair for him. And he could see and feel the eyes and faces on which he was not quite willing to look.
But directly before him, at another table in the same square, but more directly below the raised platform at the west end, as he could see now, were Mason and several men whom he seemed to recollect—Earl Newcomb and Burton Burleigh and yet another man whom he had never seen before, all four turning and gazing at him as he came.
And about this inner group, an outer circle of men and women writers and sketch artists.
And then, after a time, recalling Belknap’s advice, he managed to straighten up and with an air of studied ease and courage—which was belied to a certain extent by his strained, pale face and somewhat hazy stare—look at the writers and artists who were either studying or sketching him, and even to whisper: “Quite a full house, eh?” But just then, and before he could say anything more, a resounding whack, whack, from somewhere. And then a voice: “Order in the Court! His Honor, the Court! Everybody please rise!” And as suddenly the whispering and stirring audience growing completely silent. And then, through a door to the south of the dais, a large urbane and florid and smooth-faced man, who in an ample black gown, walked swiftly to the large chair immediately behind the desk, and after looking steadily upon all before him, but without appearing to see any one of them seated himself. Whereupon every one assembled in the courtroom sat down.
And then to the left, yet below the judge, at a smaller desk, a smaller and older individual standing and calling, “Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the honorable, the Supreme Court of the State of New York, County of Cataraqui, draw near and give attention. This court is now in session!”
And after that this same individual again rising and beginning: “The State of New York against Clyde Griffiths.” Then Mason, rising and standing before his table, at once announced: “The People are ready.” Whereupon Belknap arose, and in a courtly and affable manner, stated: “The defendant is ready.”
Then the same clerk reached into a square box that was before him, and drawing forth a piece of paper, called “Simeon Dinsmore,” whereupon a little, hunched and brown-suited man, with claw-like hands, and a ferret-like face, immediately scuttled to the jury box and was seated. And once there he was approached by Mason, who, in a brisk manner—his flat-nosed face looking most aggressive and his strong voice reaching to the uttermost corners of the court, began to inquire as to his age, his business, whether he was single or married, how many children he had, whether he believed or did not believe in capital punishment. The latter question as Clyde at once noted seemed to stir in him something akin to resentment or suppressed emotion of some kind, for at once and with emphasis, he answered: “I most certainly do—for some people”—a reply which caused Mason to smile slightly and Jephson to turn and look toward Belknap, who mumbled sarcastically: “And they talk about the possibility of a fair trial here.” But at the same time Mason feeling that this very honest, if all too convinced farmer, was a little too emphatic in his beliefs, saying: