“He shall be punished!” shouted some of the people. “Yea; he shall be punished,” agreed the head of the thirteen elders, puffing out his chest and knitting his brows. “He shall be punished; but is there a penalty severe enough for offences such as his?” “He shall be made to pay a fine,” said Adolph Schneider. “Many thousand dollars would not wipe out the harm he hath done to the crops since we are deprived of the guidance of a prophetess.” “Cast him out of Zanah!” clamored many voices. At this point Gerson Brandt advanced from his place at the end of the row of elders. “Who is fitted to determine the stranger’s punishment?” he asked. No one answered. With arms folded upon his breast Gerson Brandt waited for a response. “In this case it seemeth just that only he who hath not succumbed to the same temptation that Stephen Everett hath found here in Zanah is fit to choose a penalty for this offence. Let the man of Zanah who hath lived twenty-one years without loving a woman say what the stranger’s punishment shall be.” The men of Zanah stared at one another. The women tiptoed to see if they might read long-buried secrets in the faces of their husbands and brothers. “There must be many here who have escaped the lure that lurketh in the eyes of women,” the school-master said, presently. “It may be that my meaning hath not been made plain. Let him who hath attained the age of manhood without knowing what Zanah calleth an earthly love judge Stephen Everett.” The men of Zanah looked at one another with shamefaced glances. “Is not he who hath loved and repented a better judge?” asked Karl Weisel. “Nay; why should one that hath been weak in the presence of woman judge another?” responded the school-master. “There are many men of Zanah who have never married. Why do not they answer? Why do not they volunteer to measure the sin of loving a woman?” A minute passed. “Is there none in Zanah qualified to judge the stranger?” inquired Gerson Brandt. From the edge of the crowd came the simple one. “I, the fool of Zanah, have passed the age of one-and-twenty without loving,” he declared, in a tone that betrayed not the least trace of any feeling. His face was, as usual, absolutely without expression. “Set a fool to judge a fool,” sneered Mother Schneider. But the men had nothing to say. “What is thy judgment, Hans Peter?” asked the school-master.