CHAPTER XXXI.
THE TRIAL.
THE parlor was well lighted, and Balsamo entering could see the grim air of the five men who kept their seats until he was before them and bowed. Then they all rose and returned the salute.
He took an armchair facing theirs without appearing to remark that theirs formed a horse-shoe in front of his so that he occupied the place of the culprit at a trial.
He did not speak first as he would have done on another occasion. From the painful dulness which succeeded the shock to him he looked without seeing.
“You seem to have understood what we come for, brother,” said the man who held the central chair: “yet you were long coming and we were deliberating if we should not send for you.”
“I do not understand you,” simply replied the mesmerist.
“That did not seem so when you took the place of the accused.”
“Accused?” faltered the other, vaguely. “Still I do not understand.”
“It will not be hard to make you do so,” said the chief officer: “judging by your pale front, dull eyes and tremulous voice. Do you not hear me?”
“Yes, I hear,” was the reply, while he shook his head to drive away the thoughts oppressing him.