The district elder swung his head, carefully shifting
his feet, rested his abdomen on his knees, and his hands on his
abdomen. Without moving his head the old judge turned his body to
the red-mustached judge, and began to speak to him quickly. The
red-mustached judge inclined his head to listen. The marshal of
the nobility conversed with the prosecuting attorney; the mayor of
the city listened and smiled, rubbing his cheek. Again the dull
speech of the old judge was heard. All four lawyers listened
attentively. The prisoners exchanged whispers with one another,
and Fedya, smiling in confusion, hid his face.
"How he cut them off! Straight, downright, better than all!" Sizov
whispered in amazement in the ear of the mother. "Ah, you little boy!"
The mother smiled in perplexity. The proceedings seemed to be
nothing but the necessary preliminary to something terrible, which
would appear and at once stifle everybody with its cold horror. But
the calm words of Pavel and Andrey had sounded so fearless and firm,
as if uttered in the little house of the suburb, and not in the
presence of the court. Fedya's hot, youthful sally amused her;
something bold and fresh grew up in the hall, and she guessed from
the movement of the people back of her that she was not the only
one who felt this.
Pages:
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553