Wolf heard the harsh sounds gradually retreating, till finally they died away in the direction of the town. Once more he buried his face in his hands. When at last he sat up again, he had conquered himself. He had determined to wage war against fate. Upright and with firm steps he paced up and down his cell. He thought over everything that could serve for his defence: how he had held himself in check, so as not in any way to prolong by his own fault his time of service; how he had even looked on quietly when Findeisen obeyed the sergeant's humiliating order; but how Keyser's provocative look had made his blood boil and had driven him to his unlucky deed. He had, it is true, raised his hand against a superior; but the sight of the gunner licking the dust off the boots had seemed to him an insult to humanity itself. The judges would not be able to disregard this, and at least they would judge his offence leniently. Even if their outlook on life were diametrically opposed to his own, surely in pronouncing their verdict on him that could not prevent their taking into consideration the purity of his motives. And he thought out a speech of defence which must penetrate the hearts of the judges, a speech full of eloquent, inspiring words about that dignity of man which none should wound with impunity, and about that justifiable wrath which is not only excusable, but even praiseworthy. He intoxicated himself with his thoughts. Hope dazzled him, and already he saw himself acquitted. He piled up argument after argument, and planned artistically-turned periods and effective antitheses, concluding his apology with a sublime appeal to the sense of justice of his judges. The hours passed. He paced incessantly up and down the narrow cell, with a glowing face and sparkling eyes. The bowl of food which had been brought in for his dinner stood untouched. What had he to do with food and drink? He was contending for something higher--for his freedom. In the afternoon he was taken before the officer who was to conduct the inquiry, who had been summoned by telegraph from the divisional head-quarters. The proceedings took place in barrack-room VII. of the sixth battery, the scene of the fatal incident. At the table sat the presiding officer, a stout man, whose head rose red and swollen above his tight collar. He had a couple of sheets of paper before him, and while interrogating constantly fidgeted with a pencil. A clerk waited with pen to paper. The hearing began. Findeisen, when questioned, maintained a stubborn silence. The examining officer tried by reasoning and by scolding to get something out of him; the gunner remained dumb. He kept his eyes on the ground, from time to time glancing furtively at the door. But two non-commissioned officers were posted on the threshold.