But Wardlaw senior was recalled, and swore that he had left his son in a burning fever, not expected to live.

And declared, with genuine emotion, that nothing but a high sense of public duty had brought _him_ hither from his dying son's bedside.

He also told the court that Arthur's inability to clear his friend had really been the first cause of his illness, from which he was not expected to recover.
The jury consulted together a long time; and, at last, brought in a verdict of "GUILTY"; but recommended him to mercy on grounds which might fairly have been alleged in favor of his innocence; but, if guilty, rather aggravated his crime.
Then an officer of the court inquired, in a sort of chant or recitative, whether the prisoner had anything to say why judgment should not be given in accordance with the verdict.
It is easy to divest words of their meaning by false intonation; and prisoners in general receive this bit of singsong in dead silence.

For why?
the chant conveys no idea to their ears, and they would as soon think of _replying_ to the notes of a cuckoo.
But the Reverend Robert Penfold was in a keen agony that sharpened all his senses; he caught the sense of the words in spite of the speaker, and clung wildly to the straw that monotonous machine held out.

"My lord! my lord!" he cried, "I'll tell you the real reason why young Wardlaw is not here." The judge put up his hand with a gesture that enforced silence.
"Prisoner," said he, "I cannot go back to facts; the jury have dealt with them.