It required some ten or fifteen minutes to collect the entire party, for they were scattered about the boat, deeply interested in conversation. Nearly every one of the maskers had been discussing the mysterious woman in the black domino. At length the queen ascended her throne, and, after a moment’s pause, ordered Ingomar to proceed. “When I was conducted into the court-room by the deputy sheriff, his Honor, Judge Flaxback, occupied the judicial bench; fixing his little round eyes on me, he surveyed me like a snake endeavoring to charm a bird. A large crowd of village idlers had assembled in the house, attracted there, no doubt, by the peculiarity of the case. Flaxback reminded me of an Egyptian mummy that I had seen in a museum. He was a little dried-up specimen of decaying humanity, exhibiting in his person and dress unmistakable evidence of dissipation and dilapidation. His nose had evidently been broken with a heavy blow of some sort, for an ugly scar was apparent running horizontally across his face, while his nostrils flared outward, presenting rather an ugly appearance. He rested his chin on a plank in front of his seat, and continued to gaze at me with a lazy, half-asleep sort of a stare that caused my cheeks to burn with indignation. Every man in the room had his eyes riveted on me, staring with open mouth as children do at an elephant, while Flaxback seemed to be waiting for the inspection to be completed before proceeding with the case. When a drop of blood starts from such a man’s heart, with a view of making a journey to his extremities to furnish a little life to them, it bids a long adieu to its home, knowing that the chances are ten to one in favor of its freezing to death on the way. I sat and impatiently watched the strange looking judge, wondering why he did not proceed to dispose of my case. He continued to eye me for full thirty seconds, and then in a voice sounding like that made with a file when being need to sharpen a handsaw, he ordered the clerk to read the sheriff’s return on the writ of _habeas corpus_. “‘No return made, sir,’ said the clerk, as he began to grab promiscuously about, snatching up every paper in sight, and looking as if he were hunting for a small hole to crawl into. “‘Where’s the sheriff?’ demanded the judge, in a voice which was evidently meant to be loud and threatening, but which really did not amount to a respectable whine. “‘Fact is, may it please your Honor,’ said Mr. Deediddle, ‘the sheriff has just stepped over to Mr. Dick Sninkle’s saloon to get a glass of _water_.’ “A smile might have been seen on the faces of a majority of the spectators--they all knew that water did not agree with the sheriff. The officer soon made his appearance, and the judge asked him why he had neglected to return the writ. “‘The writ commanded me to bring the body of Edward Demar before the court, and here he is; what else could I do?’