Suddenly the Judge feels his eyes fill up with tears; then he pulls himself together, almost ashamed, and casts a hasty glance about him. He sees that the clerks and bailiffs and the whole long row of jurymen are leaning forward and looking at the girl who stands before the Judges' table with the Bible hugged close to her. And he sees a light in their faces, as though they had seen something very beautiful, which had made them happy all the way into their souls.
Then the Judge casts a glance over the spectators, and he sees that they all breathe a quick sigh of relief, as if they had just heard what they had longed above everything to hear.
Finally, the Judge looks at the defendant. Now it is he who stands with lowered head and looks at the floor.
The Judge turns once more to the poor girl. "It shall be as you wish," he says. "The case shall be stricken from the Calendar,"—this to the recording clerk.
The defendant makes a move, as though he wished to interpose an objection. "Well, what now?" the Judge bellows at him. "Have you anything against it?"
The defendant's head hangs lower and lower, and he says, almost inaudibly, "Oh, no, I dare say it is best to let it go that way."
The Judge sits still a moment more, and then he pushes the heavy chair back, rises, and walks around the table and up to the plaintiff.
"Thank you!" he says and gives her his hand.
She has laid down the Bible and stands wiping away the tears with the crumpled up handkerchief.
"Thank you!" says the Judge once more, taking her hand and shaking it as if it belonged to a real man's man.