Geissler felt perhaps some touch of malice at the portly complacency of the man of law; he said: 

“Erasmus was born out of wedlock.”

“Erasmus ...?”

“Erasmus of Rotterdam.”

“H’m.”

“And Leonardo the same.”

“Leonardo da Vinci?  Really?  Well, of course, there are exceptions, otherwise there would be no rule.  But on the whole....”

“We pass protective measures for beast and bird,” said Geissler; “seems rather strange, doesn’t it, not to trouble about our own young?”

The advocate for the Crown reached out slowly and with dignity after some papers on the table, as a hint that he had not time to continue the discussion.  “Yes....” said he absently.  “Yes, yes, no doubt....”

Geissler expressed his thanks for a most instructive conversation, and took his leave.

He sat down in the court-house again, to be there in good time.  He was not ill-pleased, maybe, to feel his power; he had knowledge of a certain piece of wrapping, a man’s shirt cut across, to carry—­let us say twigs for a broom; of the body of a child floating in the harbour at Bergen—­ay, he could make matters awkward for the court if he chose; a word from him would be as effective as a thousand swords.  But Geissler had doubtless no intention of uttering that word now unless it were needed.  Things were going splendidly without; even the advocate for the Crown had declared himself on the side of the accused.

The room fills, and the court is sitting again.

An interesting comedy to watch in a little town.  The warning gravity of the advocate for the Crown, the emotional eloquence of the advocate for the defence.  The court sat listening to what appeared to be its duty in regard to the case of a girl named Barbro, and the death of her child.

For all that, it was no light matter after all to decide.  The advocate for the Crown was a presentable man to look at, and doubtless also a man of heart, but something appeared to have annoyed him recently or possibly he had suddenly remembered that he held a certain office in the State and was bound to act from that point of view.  An incomprehensible thing, but he was plainly less disposed to be lenient now than he had been during the morning; if the crime had been committed, he said, it was a serious matter, and things would look black indeed if they could with certainty be declared so black as would appear from the testimony of the witnesses already heard.  That was a matter for the court to decide.  He wished to draw attention to three points:  firstly, whether they had before them a concealment of birth; whether this was clear to the court.  He made some personal remarks on this head.  The second point was the wrapping, the piece of a shirt—­why had the accused taken this with her?  Was it in order to make use of it for a certain purpose preconceived?  He developed this suggestion further.  His third