ned! But
regard this, Excellency; I know nothing. I can give you the Englishman's
account; then, if you get that of Reitzei, and the two correspond, it is
a good proof that Reitzei is not lying in his confession. It is for you
to examine him, Excellency."'

"No, it is not for me," the ruddy-faced soldier-looking man said, and
then he turned to his two companions. The one was the Secretary
Granaglia: the other was a broad-shouldered, elderly man, with
strikingly handsome features of the modern Greek type, a pallid,
wax-like complexion, and thoughtful, impenetrable eyes. "Brother
Conventzi, I withdraw from this affair. I leave it in hands of the
Council; one of the accused was in former days my friend; it is not
right that I should interfere."

"And I also, Excellency," said Calabressa, eagerly. "I have fulfilled my
commission; may not I retire now also?"

"Brother Granaglia will take down your report in writing; then you are
free, my Calabressa. But you will take the summons of the Council to
your friend Reitzei; I suppose he will have to be examined before the
others arrive."

And so it came about that neither the General von Zoesch nor Calabressa
was present when the trial, if trial it could be called, took place.
There were no formalities. In this same big bare room seven members of
the Council sat at the table, Brother Conventz presiding, the Secretary
Granaglia at the foot, with writing-materials before him. Ferdinand Lind
and Beratinsky stood between them and the side-wall apparently
impassive. Reitzei was nearer the window, pallid, uneasy, his eyes
wandering about the room, but avoiding the place where his former
colleagues stood.

The President briefly stated the accusation against them, and read
Reitzei's account of his share in what had taken place. He asked if they
had anything to deny or to explain.

Beratinsky was the first to speak.

"Illustrious Brethren of the Council," he began, as if with some set
speech; but his color suddenly forsook him, and he halted and looked
helplessly round. Then he said, wildly, "I declare that I am innocent--I
say that I am innocent! I never should have thought of it, gentlemen. It
was Lind's suggestion; he wished to get rid of the man; I declare I had
nothing to gain. Gentlemen, judge for yourselves: what had I to gain?"

He looked from one to the other; the grave faces were mostly regarding
Granaglia, who was slowly and carefully putting the words down.

Then Lin