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[Page 68]

for bad. But something reminded me that I was not this man's judge. We had been waiting (accused and witnesses) in the cold for several hours now, but at last prisoner's name is called.
He steps forward boldly. His head is poised defiantly and his blue eyes flash fire; but hi is obviously ill at ease.
His countenance hitherto pale now flushes bright red. He is about to go before a Committee of Gods of Justice. Justice will be dealt "without fear or favour," but justly.
The escort is near that mighty Limb of Justice, the Provost sergeant, is watching from near by. The Menial of Justice cries,

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