“May I be early deprived of physical life in four succeeding incarnations, if I be not innocent of this charge.” “Thou standest in a perilous position, Alcamayn,” cautioned Yermah. “Weigh thy words well!” “Had my days four times their natural span, I should risk them without fear.” There was no bravado in Alcamayn’s tone or manner. He feared the worst, and there was a hungry, desperate expectancy in every glance. The days had gone over his head like years. Stripped of all finery and with close cropped hair, his bat-wing ears stood out from his head. The hawk face, clean-shaven, showed the cunning and courage of a cornered rat. The hunchback’s supreme egotism stood him in good stead, but the inner man had no compunction for what he had done. He was appalled at the unexpected death of Orondo, never having counted on such an outcome. But what criminal ever does look forward to being caught and overwhelmed with his own guilt? Alcamayn had succeeded in getting even with his tormentors, and he was secretly glad of it. If it had only been Ildiko who had died instead of Orondo, he would have been entirely satisfied; and, as it was, persuaded himself that he was innocent of any wrongdoing. He hated Orondo, and the jilted man deemed that justifiable since his rival’s success had been a prime cause of humiliation. The prisoner was seated on a revolving stool, and made to face each judge and juror while the questions and responses were being given. One of the most damaging circumstances against Alcamayn was his own soberness compared with Ildiko’s sudden intoxication. He reluctantly admitted that he had deliberately gone to the wedding meditating revenge, and had carefully carried it out at the first opportunity. The accused did not deny that he was actuated by a petty, mean jealousy, although he scorned the insinuation of loving Ildiko. His deformity told against him greatly, because of the belief that the body was but an outward expression of the inner man. Each of the four accusers took turn in examining the testimony, analyzing the motives, inquiring minutely into extenuating circumstances; and the judges and jurors were equally divided for and against. The arguments continued all day, but at sun-down the decision had been reached. There was no prerogative of pardon. The commonwealth had the right to interfere directly and by isolated acts, to avenge itself on the author of the evil which it had suffered. “Alcamayn, hast thou aught to say which can delay judgment about to be meted out to thee?” Yermah spoke perfunctorily. The strain was telling on them all; and Alcamayn, more dead than alive, answered mechanically: “I have none.” “Alcamayn, face thy accusers.” The condemned man dragged himself to his feet, and stared doggedly ahead of him. “Alcamayn, never more canst thou be heard in thine own behalf. I charge thee, as death must soon be thy portion, speak the truth. Art thou guilty?” The stillness was intense.