Christian yielded. He lifted the latch and thrust the door open, standing aside that they might pass him by; but two linked arm with him, walked him in, and held him a prisoner. He did not offer to resist. Rhoda pressed after him close; the last to enter closed and bolted the door. Puzzled silence fell. Not a corner of the bare place could harbour suspicion. Some tools were ranged against the walls; twine and canvas and common oddments lay there, a small enough show of garden store, and of fuel a pile pitifully low. A stool overthrown told of Christian's last hasty rising; on a bench lay his cap, half filled with scarlet berries, and strung berries were spread beside. Four blank countenances were turned upon him, whose looks were sullen and guilty like a criminal's taken in the act. Rhoda, bewildered, owned to her sinking heart that here showed such vagary of his wits as passed her reckoning. 'You were best away, Rhoda.' 'I will not go,' she said, 'except I be thrust out.' None urged for that rough kindness now, having gone so far; her presence might even turn to account, for it must lie with the Alien to spare her distress. The prisoner took up question. 'The League has charged you to be judges?' 'Yes.' 'To give sentence?' 'Yes.' 'To execute it?' 'Yes.' Christian grew as white as a coward; he went on steadily nevertheless. 'You are charged to do murder.' 'To do justice.' 'Without any proof that Philip is dead.' 'Lack of proof that he is alive comes to the same as the case stands.' No lie would now avail of Philip lost overboard. In the stress of clear thinking for his life he felt relief that he could not be so tempted to damn his fair cause before Heaven. 'He will return,' he muttered, 'but too late, for me too late.' 'Christian, they dare not,' gasped Rhoda; 'no, you dare not, for Philip will return to confound you. Should he return--too late--then may God have no mercy on your souls.' Christian said 'Amen' to that. The spokesman turned to Rhoda. 'You speak positively: can you bear witness in his favour?' 'I know nothing--nothing.' 'Yet have you shown singular quickness of apprehension.' She looked piteously at Christian, galled by remorse. 'Oh me! Must I say?' 'Why not? None here will blame you. I cannot.' So Rhoda faltered out how she too had entertained a wicked suspicion. 'What evidence then routed it?' 'His.' 'His evidence?' 'His denial.' Her sincerity was beyond question; her simplicity commanded respect; no ingenuity could have spoken better to his credit. Yet all was vain. 'Bare denial may not suffice for us, when furthermore without valid cause he has refused any clear statement to satisfy a reasonable demand, and quibbled and defied.' 'Give me a moment's grace,' pleaded Christian, 'to make sure if I can go no further.'