‘He answered:
‘“As surely as I stand upon the brink of death at this moment, I am innocent. Be comforted, then, O bruised heart; be at peace, O thou breath of my nostrils, life of my life!”
‘“Now, then, let the elders come!”—and as I said the words there was a gathering sound of crunching snow outside, and then a vision of stooping forms filing in at the door—the elders.
‘My father formally accused the prisoner, and detailed the happenings of the night. He said that the watchman was outside the door, and that in the house were none but the family and the stranger. “Would the family steal their own property?” He paused. The elders sat silent many minutes; at last, one after another said to his neighbour, “This looks bad for the stranger”—sorrowful words for me to hear. Then my father sat down. O miserable, miserable me! At that very moment I could have proved my darling innocent, but I did not know it!
‘The chief of the court asked:
‘“Is there any here to defend the prisoner?”
‘I rose and said:
‘“Why should he steal that hook, or any or all of them? In another day he would have been heir to the whole!”
I stood waiting. There was a long silence, the steam from the many breaths rising about me like a fog. At last one elder after another nodded his head slowly several times, and muttered, “There is force in what the child has said.” Oh, the heart-lift that was in those words!—so transient, but, oh, so precious! I sat down.
‘“If any would say further, let him speak now, or after hold his peace,” said the chief of the court.