-to-be-forgotten scene, which would give a touch of sublimity to
its hitherto low and common rioting.

So Thomas Bodza ascended to the highest step of the castle staircase,
from whence he declared to the mob that as the champions of justice they
had prevailed.

"And now," continued he, "we will pronounce judgment on the
poison-mixers according to the good old Greek custom. Let the people
take potsherds in their hands. In front of the hall stand two urns. In
one is life, in the other death. Let each one of you cast his vote into
which urn he pleases. This, my friends, is the ostracism of classical
times. You are the archons who shall give judgment, and the whole world
will thus see that we exercise according to law and order the authority
which we have won with our arms. Sit around me, therefore, oh, citizens,
and let the accused be brought forth!"

The gaping mob was delighted with this new diversion.

Hitherto the only occasion on which they had had an opportunity of
seeing a court of justice was when they had been led in chains, for some
crime or other, before the green table of the district court, where
great gentlemen pronounced sentences upon them out of big thick books.
And now one of these very great gentlemen was, in his turn, to stand
before a tribunal, and the tribunal consisted of nothing but peasants,
whose hair had never been clipped, who had never worn linen, who could
neither read nor write, and yet who now had the power of passing upon
him whatever sentence they chose. So they all applauded Bodza's
proposition loudly, whilst he himself, with an air of ineffable
importance, sat down on the topmost step of the staircase, and beckoned
to his subordinates to lead forth the old squire.

He gave very little trouble, it was not even necessary to fetter him,
for the moment he was untied from the doorpost he simply collapsed and
remained lying where he had fallen.

Then they put him on an ambulance car, and thus conveyed him before the
Areopagus.

One worthy peasant had compassion on the old man lying there in his
shirt exposed to the cold morning air, and covered him with his
_guba_[20] yet this very man voted for his death a few moments later.

[Footnote 20: A shaggy woollen mantle worn by the Hungarian peasants.]

Meanwhile, stubbly Hanak had placed behind the old man's back a gipsy
brickmaker to keep an eye on him, and touch him up with a whip if he
refused to confess.

Thomas Bodza now produced t