“Some people get so accustomed to opium,” he began, “that they can take forty drops at a time.  A relative of mine——­”

But the colonel would brook no interruption, and went on to tell of the effect of the opium on his brother-in-law’s wife.

“It is five o’clock, gentlemen,” said one of the jury.

“What do you say, gentlemen,” said the foreman.  “We find her guilty, but without the intent to rob, and without stealing any property—­is that correct?”

Peter Gerasimovich, pleased with the victory he had gained, agreed to the verdict.

“And we recommend her to the mercy of the court,” added the merchant.

Every one agreed except the laborer, who insisted on a verdict of “Not guilty.”

“But that is the meaning of the verdict,” explained the foreman.  “Without the intent to rob, and without stealing any property—­hence she is not guilty.”

“Don’t forget to throw in the recommendation to mercy.  If there be anything left that will wipe it out,” joyfully said the merchant.  They were so tired and the arguments had so confused them that it did not occur to any one to add “but without the intent to cause the death of the merchant.”

Nekhludoff was so excited that he did not notice it.  The answers were in this form taken to the court.

Rabelais relates the story of a jurist who was trying a case, and who, after citing innumerable laws and reading twenty pages of incomprehensible judicial Latin, made an offer to the litigants to throw dice; if an even number fell then the plaintiff was right; if an odd number the defendant was right.

It was the same here.  The verdict was reached not because the majority of the jury agreed to it, but first because the justiciary had so drawn out his speech that he failed to properly instruct the jury; second, because the colonel’s story about his brother-in-law’s wife was tedious; third, because Nekhludoff was so excited that he did not notice the omission of the clause limiting the intent in the answer, and thought that the words “without intent to rob” negatively answered the question; fourth, because Peter Gerasimovich was not in the room when the foreman read the questions and answers, and chiefly because the jury were tired out and were anxious to get away, and therefore agreed to the verdict which it was easiest to reach.

They rang the bell.  The gendarme sheathed his sword and stood aside.  The judges, one by one, took their seats and the jury filed out.

The foreman held the list with a solemn air.  He approached the justiciary and handed it to him.  The justiciary read it, and, with evident surprise, turned to consult with his associates.  He was surprised that the jury, in limiting the charge by the words, “without intent to rob,” should fail to add also “without intent to cause death.”  It followed from the decision of the jury, that Maslova had not stolen or robbed, but had poisoned a man without any apparent reason.