Meanwhile, outside, the crowd stood waiting, none too patiently. Now and
then a messenger came to the balcony and shouted out the latest aspect
of the drama being enacted inside. The word was caught up by the first
auditor, passed along to right and left until the whole throng knew and
speculated on each bit of information.
Adrian, caught in the outer eddies of that human maelstrom, found
himself beside Juana Briones. "The jury's out," she told him. "Jury's
out!" the word swept onward. Then there came a long and silent wait.
Once again the messenger appeared. "Still out," he bellowed, "having
trouble." "What's the matter with them?" a score of voices shouted.
Presently the messenger returned. His face was angry, almost apoplectic.
One could see that he was having difficulty with articulation. He waved
his hands in a gesture of impotent wrath. At last he found his voice and
shouted, "Disagreed. The jury's disagreed."
An uproar followed. "Hang the jury!" cried an irate voice. A rush was
made for the entrance. But two hundred armed, determined men opposed the
onslaught. The very magnitude of the human press defeated its own ends.
Men cried aloud that they were being crushed.
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