"Nevertheless the evidence is deserving of some consideration," interposed Völgyeshy, "especially respecting the credit to be placed in Tzifra's, or, if Mr. Skinner likes it better, in Mr. St. Vilmoshy's statements. The very man who commits the crime has often been found to depose against another."
"There is a deal of truth in that," said Kishlaki.
"I say!" cried Zatonyi, "that's a bright idea! We'll hang them both."
"Nonsense, amice!" said Shoskuty; "the other man is not before the court-martial."
"If you arraign him, you may do so," said the assessor. "I know of a precedent. I know of a thief who was just on the point of being turned off, when he saw an accomplice among the crowd. He points him out; the judge sends his men to arrest him. The fellow runs away, they overtake him, and, by G—d! the rascal shows fight. Was it not glorious! They take him back and hang him, on the spur of the moment, by the side of the other fellow; and the judge put into his report that he had hanged two thieves instead of one."
"Devil of a mess he got himself into," said Shoskuty. "Queer notion that!"
"Mess? oh yes, he got into a mess; for now-a-days there's not a knave so bad but he finds somebody who takes his cause up: and, in short, they tell me the judge would have lost his place if he had not resigned, but that was all."
"It was a murder!" cried Völgyeshy—"neither more nor less than a murder!"
"My friend," said the assessor, with a pitying glance at Völgyeshy, "denique, you don't know the world. However, I do not mean to urge my view of the case: all I can say is, it's a pity if we do not hang the two. But here's the prisoner!"
The door opened, and Viola entered, chained, and surrounded by armed men.