“It’s not a goose; it’s a turkey buzzard!”

“It’s not feathered at all,” said Fairfax Cary.  “It’s a mangy jackal to a mangy lion.”

The young man had spoken loudly and contemptuously.  Rand, on the Justice’s Bench, and Mocket, in the act of voting, both heard, and both looked his way.  Ludwell Cary knit his brows, and meeting his brother’s eyes, slightly shook his head.  Look and gesture said, “Leave abuse alone, Fair.”

Mocket voted for Rand.  “I challenge that vote!” cried Major Edward Churchill.  “The man’s been in prison.”

Amid the noise that followed, the Jackal was heard to cry, “It’s a lie!  Lewis, tell them it’s a lie!  Major Churchill, you’d better be careful!  I was acquitted, and you know it.”

“Do I?” answered the Major coolly.  “I know that you ought to be making shoes in the penitentiary!  Mr. Sheriff, you should really have this courtroom sprinkled with vinegar.  There’s gaol fever in the air.”

“I don’t see, Mr. Sheriff,” came Rand’s voice from the Justice’s Bench, “that any more vinegar is needed.  Gentlemen, all—­whether Federalist or Republican—­I was Mr. Mocket’s lawyer in the case referred to.  Twelve good men and true—­men of this county—­pronounced him innocent.  It is not surprising that my friends the Federalists should wish to gain time,—­they are leagued with old Time,—­but I protest against their gaining it by such means.  This is not a matter of parties; it is a matter of a man being held innocent till he is proved guilty.  A hundred men here can testify as to the verdict in this case.  Mr. Mocket, gentlemen—­” He paused and regarded the sandy-haired and freckled Tom, the brother of little Vinie, the sometime door-boy in Chancellor Wythe’s law office, with a smile so broadly humorous, humane, and tolerant, that suddenly the courtroom smiled with him.  “Tom Mocket, gentlemen, is a scamp, but he’s not a scoundrel!  The election proceeds, Mr. Sheriff.”

“I vote for Lewis Rand!” shouted the scamp out of the uproar.  “Richmond now, then Washington!  We’ll send Lewis Rand as high as he can go!”

“As high as the gallows!” growled Major Edward Churchill.

“Send him,” said a voice in the doorway, “out West.  Mr. Jefferson gained Louisiana, but ’twill take a stronger man to gain Mexico.  Mexico wants a Buonaparte.”

The day wore on with no lessening of heat and clamour.  The Court House becoming too full, men betook themselves to the yard or to the street, where, mounted on chairs or on wagons from which the horses had been taken, they harangued their fellows.  Public speaking came easily to this race.  To-day good liquor and emulation pricked them on, and the spring in the blood.  Under the locusts to the right of the gate Federalists apostrophized Washington, lauded Hamilton, the Judiciary, and the beauty of the English Constitution, denounced the French, denounced the Louisiana Purchase, denounced the Man of the People, and his every tool