"Gentlemen of the jury, have you considered your verdict?"
"We have."
The voice of the foreman was weak and almost inaudible.
"Do you find the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?"
A pause.
"Guilty."
There was a sound like a staccato whisper. A quick explosion of soft sound, and then silence.
"Ambrose Sault, what have you to say that my lord should not condemn you to die?"
Ambrose stood easily in the dock: both hands were on the ledge before him and his head was bent in a listening posture.
"Nothing."