"I ask your Honor to take account of the difficulty of my position, presuming, as the law instructs the Court to presume, that it is the position of an innocent person. Bound by the most inviolable vow which a man can take, I am unable to offer to you a conclusive defense by presenting the man who committed the crime. He may be in this court room now, cowering with a consciousness of his guilt and in awe at beholding its consequences to the one who has helped him. He may be an officer of this Court; he might be your Honor, sitting upon the bench, which, of course, is unthinkable—yet no more unthinkable to me than that I should be charged with this crime. But though he be here at my very side, I cannot reach out my hand and say: ’That is the man.’ I will not touch him nor look at him. Unless he speaks—and I confess that there is an outside reason why I should absolutely forbid him to speak—there is no defense that can be offered, beyond the simple story I have told you. "May I not, also, without being accused of egotism, remind your Honor that if it is decided that I appear sufficiently guilty to warrant a criminal trial in the Superior Court, my work in this community will be at an end." The minister was speaking for the first time with a show of deep feeling, and an indulgent sneer appeared upon the lips of Searle. This was not legitimate argument. Yet a mere preacher might not be supposed to know it, and therefore he, Searle, would magnanimously allow the man to talk himself out, if his Honor did not stop him. But the Court was also complaisant, and the minister went on with passionate earnestness to plead: "Regardless of the ultimate verdict of a jury, the stigma of a felony trial will be upon me for life. From this very court room I shall be taken to your identification bureau. I shall be weighed, stripped, measured—my thumb prints taken—my features photographed like those of any criminal!" As Hampstead proceeded, his speech began to be punctuated with spasmodic breaks, as if the prospective humiliation was one at which his sensitive nature revolted violently. "And those finger prints," he labored—"those measurements—and that photograph—will become a part—of the criminal records—of the State of California—for as long as the paper upon which they are made shall last!" "No! No!! No!!!" shrilled a hysterical voice that burst out suddenly and ended as abruptly as it began. Strangely enough it was the complaining witness who had cried out. She had risen and stood with hands outstretched protestingly to the minister, while whispering hoarsely: "It cannot be! It cannot be!" "Madam!" thundered the minister, viewing the woman sternly, his own emotion of self-sympathy disappearing at this unexpected sign of softness in her, while his eyes blazed indignantly: "That is a police regulation which by long custom has come to have all the force of law. If you doubt it, your accomplice there will so inform you!"