CHAPTER [VII.]
<VIII>
WE passed a few sad hours, until eleven o'clock, when the trial
was to commence. My father and the rest of the family being
obliged to attend as witnesses, I accompanied them to the
court. During the whole of this wretched mockery of
[justice,] <justice> I suffered living
torture. It was to be decided, whether the result of my
curiosity and lawless devices would cause the death of two of my
fellow-beings: one a smiling babe, full of innocence and joy;
the other far more dreadfully murdered, with every aggravation
of infamy that could make the murder memorable in horror.
Justine also was a girl of merit, and possessed qualities which
promised to render her life happy: now all was to be obliterated
in an ignominious grave; and I the cause! A thousand times
rather would I have confessed myself guilty of the crime
ascribed to Justine; but I was absent when it was committed, and
such a declaration would have been considered as the ravings of
a madman, and would not have exculpated her who suffered through
me.
The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning;
and her countenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the
solemnity of her feelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she
appeared confident in innocence, and did not tremble, although
gazed on and execrated by thousands; for all the kindness which
her beauty might otherwise have excited, was obliterated in the
minds of the spectators by the imagination of the enormity she
was supposed to have committed. She was tranquil, yet her
tranquillity was evidently constrained; and as her confusion had
before been adduced as a proof of her guilt, she worked up her
mind to an appearance of courage. When she entered the court,
she threw her eyes round it, and quickly discovered where we
were seated. A tear seemed to dim her eye when she saw us; but
she quickly recovered herself, and a look of sorrowful affection
seemed to attest her utter guiltlessness.