attitude of so great a multitude, bristling with muskets and bludgeons,
would suffice to prevent the justices from making any attempt to hold
court. It was with a certain awe, and a silence interrupted only by
murmurs of astonishment, that the people now awaited their approach.
Perhaps had the throng been less dense, it might have justified the
serene and haughty confidence of the justices, by opening a path for
them. But however disposed the first ranks might have been to give
way, they could not by reason of the pressure from behind, and on
every side.

Still the sheriff continued to advance, with as much apparent
confidence of opening a way as if his wand were the veritable rod
wherewith Moses parted the Red Sea, until he almost trod on the toes
of the shrinking first rank. But there he was fain to pause. Moral
force cannot penetrate a purely physical obstacle.

And when the sheriff stopped, the justices marching behind him also
stopped. Not indeed that their honors so far forgot their dignity as
to appear to take direct cognizance of the vulgar and irregular
impediment before them. It was the sheriff's business to clear the way
for them. And although Justice Dwight's face was purple with
indignation, he, as well as his associates, continued to look away
into vacancy, suffering not their eyes to catch any of the glances of
the people before them.

"Make way! Make way for the honorable justices of the Court of Common
Pleas of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts!" cried the sheriff, in
loud, imperative tones.

A dead silence of several moments followed, in which the rattling of a