The corners of the old man's mouth twitched; he was so certain that would be the question. In answer he only nodded.
"And was the man hanged?"
He nodded again.
Sargent's voice rose to a higher pitch and broke harshly.
"How could you let it be done, and have any peace afterwards?"
The old man laid his pipe aside and came toward the table, sitting down opposite Sargent.
"I found out that I was in the right. That the man should have been hanged—that it was my duty to see that punishment was inflicted upon him. Anything else would have been an evasion of my duty,—a greater sin than I at first imagined the other was. I know what you are feeling at this moment. Every man who has a conscience and a reverence for God and has chosen criminal law for his profession goes through your experience. There are so many sides to the situation—I doubt if you have thought of but one."
Sargent moved impatiently in his chair. His fingers were thumping nervously on the table all the time.
"Tell me the other side—I can see only one."
The old man leaned forward and met his eyes intently.