lumed hats, and with red sashes
about their waists. The government attorney took his seat; the jurors
installed themselves noisily in their places, and the session began.

Nothing could be more summary than the proceedings of this tribunal.
The prisoner at the bar was generally ignorant of the charges against
him, for the so-called act of accusation was in most cases, a scrap of
paper covered with cramped and illegible hand-writing that frequently
proved undecipherable. The president read a name. The person designated,
rose and replied to such questions as were addressed to him. If the
responses were confused, the prisoner's embarrassment was regarded as a
conclusive proof of his guilt; if they were long, he was imperiously
ordered to be silent. Witnesses were heard, of course; but those who
testified in favor of the accused were roughly handled. Then the
prosecuting attorney spoke five minutes, perhaps; the jury rendered its
verdict, and the judge sentenced the prisoner or set him at liberty as
the case might be. That day, eleven persons were tried and condemned to
death in less than two hours. Dolores' turn came last.

"Your name?" asked the president.

"Antoinette de Mirandol."

As she made this reply, she heard an ill-suppressed cry behind her. She
turned quickly, and saw Coursegol. He was leaning upon the arm of
Bridoul, and his hands were clenched and his face flushed. He now
comprehended, for the first time, the girl's heroic sacrifice. Fearing
he would betray her, she gave him a warning glance, as if to impose
silence. It was unnecessary. He well knew that any statement of the real
facts would be useless now; and that the truth would ruin Antoinette
without saving Dolores. Such mistakes were not rare during the Reign of
Terror. Almost daily, precipitancy caused errors of which no one was
conscious until it was too late to repair them. Only a few days before,
a son had been condemned in place of his father; and another unfortunate
man had paid with his head, for the similarity between his name and that
of another prisoner in whose stead he had been summoned before the
Tribunal, and with whom he was executed; for Fouquier-Tinville, not
knowing which was the real culprit, chose rather to doom two innocent
men to death than to allow one guilty man to escape. Dolores was
sentenced to be beheaded under the name of Antoinette de Mirandol When
her sentence was pronounced, the business of the Court was concluded,
and