Captain von Wegstetten, as head of the battery; Captain Güntz, who had commanded it during Wegstetten's temporary absence; Senior-lieutenant Reimers and Lieutenant Landsberg, as officers in the battery; the sergeant-major and other non-commissioned officers: all united in giving Vogt the very best possible character. Wegstetten had had a violent altercation with Brettschneider, not only from personal feeling for the bombardier, but also from annoyance that his best candidate for a non-commissioned officer's post was lost to him through a piece of such tactless mismanagement. Brettschneider had complained about this reprimand, but no notice had been taken of his complaint, and that in itself spoke volumes for the accused. Güntz and Reimers were very warm in their praise of Vogt, and even Lieutenant Landsberg remembered the man as being particularly willing and diligent on duty. Things looked favourable for the accused. One of the officers present, a captain of the pioneers, asked Vogt: "You had just been working very hard, had you not? had fixed the heavy wheel single-handed, and had run very fast to tell Senior-lieutenant Brettschneider?--were you not very much exhausted and out of breath?" "Yes, sir." "I mean, you were rather over-tired and your eyes were dazed?" "Yes, sir." "Perhaps you did not quite know what you were doing?" The accused hesitated a moment. Wegstetten and Reimers had remained in the room. The former moved restlessly from one foot to the other. If Vogt were only to say "Yes," then the whole thing would be put down to a temporary aberration of mind due to hurry and fatigue, and the affair would end with his acquittal. But the bombardier answered: "No, sir, I knew quite well what I was doing." Now that was honest, but distinctly stupid. The countenance of the prosecutor lightened up. He was a very young man, with many scars on his face. He sat stiffly on his chair, tightly buttoned into an immaculate brand-new uniform; and hitherto he had been regarding with a bored expression a silver bangle that he wore on his right wrist. The hearing of witnesses was at an end. The president of the court-martial, a fat, good-humoured man of mature years, asked: "Is there anything that you wish to say, Bombardier Vogt?" "No, thank you, sir." "You acknowledge your guilt, then?" "Yes, sir." But the president wanted to give the man a chance, and asked another question, to which an affirmative answer would be a matter of course. "But you are sorry for your conduct?" he asked. The accused, however, again hesitated. Naturally every one expected him to say "yes," so that people were not listening very attentively. But when this "yes" did not appear to be forthcoming, all eyes were suddenly fixed upon Vogt. "No," said he firmly. The president looked amazed. "You cannot have understood me," he said. "I asked you if you were not sorry for your conduct?" But the answer came, clear and decided: "No, I cannot be sorry."