Justice | Page 9

say that--extenuating circumstances.
JAMES. Same thing. He's gone to work in the most cold-blooded way
to defraud his employers, and cast the blame on an innocent man. If
that's not a case for the law to take its course, I don't know what is.

WALTER. For the sake of his future, though.
JAMES. [Sarcastically] According to you, no one would ever
prosecute.
WALTER. [Nettled] I hate the idea of it.
COKESON. That's rather 'ex parte', Mr. Walter! We must have
protection.
JAMES. This is degenerating into talk.
He moves towards the partners' room.
WALTER. Put yourself in his place, father.
JAMES. You ask too much of me.
WALTER. We can't possibly tell the pressure there was on him.
JAMES. You may depend on it, my boy, if a man is going to do this
sort of thing he'll do it, pressure or no pressure; if he isn't nothing'll
make him.
WALTER. He'll never do it again.
COKESON. [Fatuously] S'pose I were to have a talk with him. We
don't want to be hard on the young man.
JAMES. That'll do, Cokeson. I've made up my mind. [He passes into
the partners' room.]
COKESON. [After a doubtful moment] We must excuse your father. I
don't want to go against your father; if he thinks it right.
WALTER. Confound it, Cokeson! why don't you back me up? You
know you feel----
COKESON. [On his dignity] I really can't say what I feel.

WALTER. We shall regret it.
COKESON. He must have known what he was doing.
WALTER. [Bitterly] "The quality of mercy is not strained."
COKESON. [Looking at him askance] Come, come, Mr. Walter. We
must try and see it sensible.
SWEEDLE. [Entering with a tray] Your lunch, sir.
COKESON. Put it down!
While SWEEDLE is putting it down on COKESON's table, the
detective, WISTER, enters the outer office, and, finding no one there,
comes to the inner doorway. He is a square, medium-sized man,
clean-shaved, in a serviceable blue serge suit and strong boots.
COKESON. [Hoarsely] Here! Here! What are we doing?
WISTER. [To WALTER] From Scotland Yard, sir. Detective-Sergeant
Blister.
WALTER. [Askance] Very well! I'll speak to my father.
He goes into the partners' room. JAMES enters.
JAMES. Morning! [In answer to an appealing gesture from COKESON]
I'm sorry; I'd stop short of this if I felt I could. Open that door.
[SWEEDLE, wondering and scared, opens it] Come here, Mr. Falder.
As FALDER comes shrinkingly out, the detective in obedience to a
sign from JAMES, slips his hand out and grasps his arm.
FALDER. [Recoiling] Oh! no,--oh! no!
WALTER. Come, come, there's a good lad.
JAMES. I charge him with felony.

FALTER. Oh, sir! There's some one--I did it for her. Let me be till
to-morrow.
JAMES motions with his hand. At that sign of hardness, FALDER
becomes rigid. Then, turning, he goes out quietly in the detective's grip.
JAMES follows, stiff and erect. SWEEDLE, rushing to the door with
open mouth, pursues them through the outer office into the corridor.
When they have all disappeared COKESON spins completely round
and makes a rush for the outer office.
COKESON: [Hoarsely] Here! What are we doing?
There is silence. He takes out his handkerchief and mops the sweat
from his face. Going back blindly to his table, sits down, and stares
blankly at his lunch.
The curtain falls.

ACT II
A Court of Justice, on a foggy October afternoon crowded with
barristers, solicitors, reporters, ushers, and jurymen. Sitting in the large,
solid dock is FALDER, with a warder on either side of him, placed
there for his safe custody, but seemingly indifferent to and unconscious
of his presence. FALDER is sitting exactly opposite to the JUDGE,
who, raised above the clamour of the court, also seems unconscious of
and indifferent to everything. HAROLD CLEAVER, the counsel for
the Crown, is a dried, yellowish man, of more than middle age, in a wig
worn almost to the colour of his face. HECTOR FROME, the counsel
for the defence, is a young, tall man, clean shaved, in a very white wig.
Among the spectators, having already given their evidence, are JAMES
and WALTER HOW, and COWLEY, the cashier. WISTER, the
detective, is just leaving the witness-box.
CLEAVER. That is the case for the Crown, me lud!
Gathering his robes together, he sits down.

FROME. [Rising and bowing to the JUDGE] If it please your lordship
and gentlemen of the jury. I am not going to dispute the fact that the
prisoner altered this cheque, but I am going to put before you evidence
as to the condition of his mind, and to submit that you would not be
justified in finding that he was responsible for his actions at the time. I
am going to show you, in fact, that he did this in a