Reder, however, in that moment was really thinking of his boyhood in Germany, where his father had been a judge like Glassford; one day he had found among the papers on his father’s desk the statement of a case. An old peasant had accidentally set fire to a forest on an estate and burned up wood to the value of forty marks, for this he was being tried. He felt sorry for the peasant and had begged his father to let him go. When he came home at night he asked his father-- Marriott made an effort, mastered himself; he thought of Archie, leaning forward eagerly, his eyes fixed on him with their last hope. He had a vision of Archie as he had seen him in the jail--he saw again the supple play of his muscles under the white skin of his breast, full of health, of strength, of life--kill him? It was monstrous! A passion swelled within him; he would speak for him, he would speak for old man Koerner, for Gusta, for all the voiceless, submerged poor in the world.... He began.... Some one was sobbing.... He glanced about. It was old Mrs. Koerner, in tears, the first she had shed during the trial.... Archie was looking at her.... He was making an effort, but tears were glistening in the corners of his eyes.... It was over at last. He had done all he could. Men were crowding about him, congratulating him--Pennell, Bentley, his friends among the lawyers, Glassford, and, yes, even Eades. "I never heard you do better, Gordon," said Eades. Marriott thanked him. But then Eades could always be depended on to do the correct thing. All that afternoon Archie sat there and listened to Eades denouncing him. When Marriott had finished his speech, Archie had felt a happiness and a hope--but now there was no hope. Eades was, indeed, tearing him to pieces. How long must he sit there and be game, and endure this thing? Would it never end? Could Eades speak on for ever and for ever and never cease his abuse and denunciation? Would it end with evening--if evening ever came? No; evening came, but Eades had not finished. Morning came, and Eades spoke on and on. He was speaking some strange words; they sounded like the words the mission stiffs used; they must be out of the Bible. He noticed that Broadwell was very attentive. "He’ll soon be done now, Archie," whispered Marriott, giving him a little pat on the knee; "when they quote Scripture, that’s a sign--" Yes, he had finished; this was all; soon it would be over and he would know. The jurymen were moving in their seats; but there was yet more to be done. The judge must deliver his charge, and the jurors settled down again to listen to Glassford with even greater respect than they had shown Eades.