quare;
but that commercial traveller on his other side seemed more louche,
and as if surprised in immorality, than ever; only the proximity of
Gentleman Fox on the other side kept Mr. Bosengate from shrinking.
Then he saw the prisoner being brought in, shadowy and dark behind the
brightness of his buttons, and he experienced a sort of shock, this
figure was so exactly that which had several times started up in his
mind. Somehow he had expected a fresh sight of the fellow to dispel and
disprove what had been haunting him, had expected to find him just an
outside phenomenon, not, as it were, a part of his own life. And he
gazed at the carven immobility of the judge's face, trying to steady
himself, as a drunken man will, by looking at a light. The regimental
doctor, unabashed by the judge's comment on his absence the day before,
gave his evidence like a man who had better things to do, and the case
for the prosecution was forthwith rounded in by a little speech from
counsel. The matter--he said--was clear as daylight. Those who wore
His Majesty's uniform, charged with the responsibility and privilege of
defending their country, were no more entitled to desert their regiments
by taking their own lives than they were entitled to desert in any other
way. He asked for a conviction. Mr. Bosengate felt a sympathetic shuffle
passing through all feet; the judge was speaking:

"Prisoner, you can either go into the witness box and make your
statement on oath, in which case you may be cross-examined on it; or you
can make your statement there from the dock, in which case you will not
be cross-examined. Which do you elect to do?"

"From here, my lord."

Seeing him now full face, and, as it might be, come to life in the
effort to convey his feelings, Mr. Bosengate had suddenly a quite
different impression of the fellow. It was as if his khaki had fallen
off, and he had stepped out of his own shadow, a live and quivering
creature. His pinched clean-shaven face seemed to have an irregular,
wilder, hairier look, his large nervous brown eyes darkened and glowed;
he jerked his shoulders, his arms, his whole body, like a man suddenly
freed from cramp or a suit of armour.

He spoke, too, in a quick, crisp, rather high voice, pinching his
consonants a little, sharpening his vowels, like a true Welshman.

"My lord and misters the jury," he said: "I was a hairdresser when the
call came on me to join the army. I had a little home and a wife