But the bombardier answered: "No, sir, I knew quite well what I was doing."
Now that was honest, but distinctly stupid.
The countenance of the prosecutor lightened up. He was a very young man, with many scars on his face. He sat stiffly on his chair, tightly buttoned into an immaculate brand-new uniform; and hitherto he had been regarding with a bored expression a silver bangle that he wore on his right wrist.
The hearing of witnesses was at an end. The president of the court-martial, a fat, good-humoured man of mature years, asked: "Is there anything that you wish to say, Bombardier Vogt?"
"No, thank you, sir."
"You acknowledge your guilt, then?"
"Yes, sir."
But the president wanted to give the man a chance, and asked another question, to which an affirmative answer would be a matter of course.
"But you are sorry for your conduct?" he asked.
The accused, however, again hesitated. Naturally every one expected him to say "yes," so that people were not listening very attentively. But when this "yes" did not appear to be forthcoming, all eyes were suddenly fixed upon Vogt.