“Ah, signori, he was so white that his face seemed to shine, and his eyes were calm and tender. And there was no more anger in him.
“And he began to pray for his fellow-prisoners; he began to pray for their lives.
“He prayed that they should not kill those poor fellow-creatures. He prayed that the noble judges should do something for them that they might some day live like others. ‘We have only this life to live,’ he said. ‘Our kingdom is only of this world.’
“He began to tell how those men had lived. He spoke as if he could read their souls. He pictured their life, gloomy and unhappy as it had been. He spoke so that several of the judges wept.
“The words came strong and commanding, so that it sounded as if Don Gaetano had been judge and the judges the criminals. ‘See,’ he said, ‘whose fault is it that these poor men have gone to destruction? Is it not you who have the power who ought to have taken care of them?’
“And they were all dismayed at the responsibility he forced upon them.
“But suddenly the judge had interrupted him.
“‘Speak in your own defence, Gaetano Alagona,’ he said; ‘do not speak in that of others!’
“Then Don Gaetano had smiled. ‘Signor,’ he said, ‘I have not much more than you with which to defend myself. But still I have something. I have left my career in England to make a revolt in Sicily. I have brought over weapons. I have made seditious speeches. I have something, although not much.’
“The judge had almost begged him. ‘Do not speak so, Don Gaetano,’ he had said. ‘Think of what you are saying!’