“Just see what an absurd decision they have reached,” he said to the associate on his left. “This means hard labor for her, and she is not guilty.”
“Why not guilty?” said the stern associate.
“She is simply not guilty. I think that chapter 818 might properly be applied to this case.” (Chapter 818 gives the court the power to set aside an unjust verdict.)
“What do you think?” he asked the kind associate.
“I agree with you.”
“And you?” he asked the choleric associate.
“By no means,” he answered, decidedly. “As it is, the papers say that too many criminals are discharged by juries. What will they say, then, if the court should discharge them? I will not agree under any circumstances.”
The justiciary looked at the clock.
“It is a pity, but what can I do?” and he handed the questions to the foreman.
They all rose, and the foreman, standing now on one foot, now on the other, cleared his throat and read the questions and answers. All the officers of the court—the secretary, the lawyers and even the prosecutor—expressed surprise.
The prisoners, who evidently did not understand the significance of the answers, were serene. When the reading was over, the justiciary asked the prosecutor what punishment he thought should be imposed on the prisoners.
The prosecutor, elated by the successful verdict against Maslova, which he ascribed to his eloquence, consulted some books, then rose and said:
“Simon Kartinkin, I think, should be punished according to chapter 1,452, sec. 4, and chapter 1,453; Euphemia Bochkova according to chapter 1,659, and Katherine Maslova according to chapter 1,454.”
All these were the severest punishments that could be imposed for the crimes.
“The court will retire to consider their decision,” said the justiciary, rising.
Everybody then rose, and, with a relieved and pleasant feeling of having fulfilled an important duty, walked around the court-room.
“What a shameful mess we have made of it,” said Peter Gerasimovitch, approaching Nekhludoff, to whom the foreman was telling a story. “Why, we have sentenced her to hard labor.”
“Is it possible?” exclaimed Nekhludoff, taking no notice at all this time of the unpleasant familiarity of the tutor.
“Why, of course,” he said. “We have not inserted in the answer, ‘Guilty, but without intent to cause death.’ The secretary has just told me that the law cited by the prosecutor provides fifteen years’ hard labor.”
“But that was our verdict,” said the foreman.
Peter Gerasimovitch began to argue that it was self-evident that as she did not steal the money she could not have intended to take the merchant’s life.
“But I read the questions before we left the room,” the foreman justified himself, “and no one objected.”
“I was leaving the room at the time,” said Peter Gerasimovitch. “But how did you come to miss it?”