Turning to the officer in charge of the case, he enquired:
"Is the prosecutor present?"
The sergeant looked round, and, seeing Professor Conti, replied that he was.
"Let him be sworn," ordered the magistrate.
To his astonishment, Professor Conti heard his name called. Thoroughly bewildered, he walked in the direction in which people seemed to expect him to walk. He took the oath, with his eyes fixed, as if he were fascinated, upon the pathetic figure in the dock. Suddenly he became aware that the man was addressing him.
"Did I do it?—did I?" he asked brokenly.
"Silence in the court!" called the clerk.
Suddenly the full horror of the situation dawned upon the Professor. He broke out into a cold sweat as he stood petrified in the witness-box. Somehow or other his plan had miscarried. He looked round him. Instinctively he thought of flight. He felt that he was the culprit, the passionate, eager creature in the dock his accuser.
"Am I the man?" he heard the prisoner persisting. "Am I?"
"N-no," he faltered in a voice he could have sworn was not his own.