This, of course, was an unexpected turn in the affair. Schmitz had not expected, and he had not forearmed himself against such a tissue of lies. His hopes sank considerably when he noticed that the major, as chairman of the commission, was shaking his head in grave disapproval on hearing the unfavorable testimony. Next followed the address of the prosecuting judge-advocate, which conformed in almost every detail to the substance of the act of accusation. Then Schmitz’s counsel arose. In eloquent words he described the event as it had actually occurred, weighed the peculiar circumstances, and pointed with great emphasis to the former intimacy of accuser and defendant,--an intimacy the existence of which had been corroborated by several witnesses who had deposed during the preliminary stage of the case. Lastly, he made as much as he could out of the fact that the whole occurrence had been an outgrowth of a friendly birthday celebration. In consideration of all these things, and also because of the irreproachable conduct of the defendant for so many years of active service, he moved for his acquittal. The court-martial then retired for deliberation, and a long time elapsed before its members, wearing a severe aspect, reappeared in the session chamber. Schmitz was in a dazed condition when he heard the sentence: two months of jail! He saw his life destroyed. In vain had been the long years which he had given, at the sacrifice of his best strength, to his country. His dream of a future free from care, and of an appointment, after another three years of service, to a municipal office of an humble kind in his native town, had been shattered at one blow. What would his parents say, his sisters and brothers, and what would become of the girl to whom he had been engaged for several years past? A fierce rage seized him, and he could have throttled on the spot the man who by perjury, out of vindictiveness and for selfish reasons, had marred his existence forever. The blood rushed to his head as he saw this same man striding past him now, a sneer on his lips, in haughty indifference. Nay, worse, he heard the commander of the regiment say to this dishonorable scoundrel: “That is right, Roth. Unpitying in the service is what I want my non-commissioned officers to be.” Schmitz was taken to a fortress on October 21st, where many hours of mental torture and many days of hard, grinding labor of the lowest kind awaited him. Thus gradually approached Christmas time. The wide yard of the barracks was covered with snow. All lay desolate, lifeless, and grim in the severe cold which had supervened during the last days. A large part of the regiment had been granted holiday leave, and every one of the men did his utmost while on duty, in order not to forfeit at the last moment the joys of home and friendship which awaited him.