perhaps ten minutes the man spoke, obviously in his own defence. His
voice was deep and powerful, yet he spoke now seemingly without anger;
and without an air of pleading. In fact his whole attitude seemed one of
irony and defiance. Abruptly he stopped speaking and silence again fell
over the room. A man and a woman left the other enclosure and mounted
the platform beside the accused. They seemed very small and fragile, as
he towered over them, looking down at them sneeringly.

The man and woman conferred a moment in whispers. Then the woman spoke.
She talked only a few minutes, interrupted twice by the judge, once by a
question from Lylda, and once by the accused himself.

Then for perhaps ten minutes more her companion addressed the court. He
was a man considerably over middle age, and evidently, from his dress
and bearing, a man of prominence in the nation. At one point in his
speech it became obvious that his meaning was not clearly understood by
the jury. Several of the women whispered together, and one rose and
spoke to Lylda. She interrupted the witness with a quiet question. Later
the accused himself questioned the speaker until silenced by the judge.

Following this witness came two others. Then the judge rose, and looking
up to the balcony where the Chemist and his companions were sitting,
motioned to the Chemist to descend to the floor below.

The Very Young Man tried once again with his whispered question "What is
it?" but the Chemist only smiled, and rising quietly left them.

There was a stir in the court-room as the Chemist crossed the main
floor. He did not ascend the platform with the prisoner, but stood
beside it. He spoke to the jury quietly, yet with a suppressed power in
his voice that must have been convincing. He spoke only a moment, more
with the impartial attitude of one who gives advice than as a witness.
When he finished, he bowed to the court and left the floor, returning at
once to his friends upon the balcony.

Following the Chemist, after a moment of silence, the judge briefly
addressed the prisoner, who stolidly maintained his attitude of ironic
defiance.

"He is going to ask the jury to give its verdict now," said the Chemist
in a low voice.

Lylda and her companion leader rose and faced their subordinates, and
with a verbal monosyllable from each member of the jury the verdict was
unhesitatingly given. As the last juryman's voice died away, there came
a cry from the back of the