ng which could
mark him as a man charged with a heinous crime, in short here, just as
in his village, thoroughly the _grand seigneur_.

The presiding judge opened the proceedings and ordered the clerk of the
court to read the accusation, which was homicide through negligence, as
well as the minutes of the coroner's inquest and the other documents of
the investigation, then he proceeded to the examination of the accused,
asking the usual questions concerning his name, age, etc., in a
courteous, kindly tone, wholly devoid of sternness, which filled Panna
with vehement rage. This was not the terrible personification of the
fell punishment of crime, but a smooth farce, acted amid universal
satisfaction.

Now the judge reached the kernel of the matter, and asked the defendant
to state the circumstances of the event which formed the subject of the
legal proceedings. Abonyi, in a somewhat unsteady voice, related that
on the fatal day he had gone to his coachhouse and found "his workman"
asleep; he had roused him and warned him to be more industrious, then
the fellow became amazingly insolent and defiant, and threatened him so
roughly with a pitchfork, that he owed his escape with a whole skin
solely to his rapid flight, and the presence of mind with which he
bolted the furious man into the shed.

Panna listened with dilated eyes and open mouth; a burning flush
suffused her cheeks, her breath came in gasps, and bending far forward,
she clenched the railing convulsively with both hands. It seemed
incredible that she could have heard correctly. What, is it possible
to lie so in a court of justice, in the presence of the black crucifix,
the judges, the listeners? And the prosecutor does not interrupt him
in his infamous speech? The earth which holds the murdered man, now
slandered in his very grave, does not open and swallow the shameless
liar?

The gardener, who perceived what was passing in her mind, laid his hand
upon her arm and whispered into her ear: "For heaven's sake, Panna,
keep quiet, control yourself, or if you cannot, go out of the room."

Panna impatiently motioned to him to keep silent, for the defendant was
continuing his story. He related how the imprisoned cartwright had
constantly raged and threatened murder and arson so that, as parish
magistrate, he had considered it his duty to have the dangerous fellow
arrested. To intimidate the rebellious man, he had sent for a
revolver, which he thought was n