The patient rattled in the throat.

The sheriff continued,—­

“So, after the seventy-two hours of the proof, here we are at the fourth day.  Man, this is the decisive day.  The fourth day has been fixed by the law for the confrontation.”

“Quarta die, frontem ad frontem adduce,” growled the Serjeant.

“The wisdom of the law,” continued the sheriff, “has chosen this last hour to hold what our ancestors called ‘judgment by mortal cold,’ seeing that it is the moment when men are believed on their yes or their no.”

The serjeant on the right confirmed his words.

“Judicium pro frodmortell, quod homines credendi sint per suum ya et per suum no.  Charter of King Adelstan, volume the first, page one hundred and sixty-three.”

There was a moment’s pause; then the sheriff bent his stern face towards the prisoner.

“Man, who art lying there on the ground—­”

He paused.

“Man,” he cried, “do you hear me?”

The man did not move.

“In the name of the law,” said the sheriff, “open your eyes.”

The man’s lids remained closed.

The sheriff turned to the doctor, who was standing on his left.

“Doctor, give your diagnostic.”

“Probe, da diagnosticum,” said the serjeant.

The doctor came down with magisterial stiffness, approached the man, leant over him, put his ear close to the mouth of the sufferer, felt the pulse at the wrist, the armpit, and the thigh, then rose again.

“Well?” said the sheriff.

“He can still hear,” said the doctor.

“Can he see?” inquired the sheriff.

The doctor answered, “He can see.”

On a sign from the sheriff, the justice of the quorum and the wapentake advanced.  The wapentake placed himself near the head of the patient.  The justice of the quorum stood behind Gwynplaine.

The doctor retired a step behind the pillars.

Then the sheriff, raising the bunch of roses as a priest about to sprinkle holy water, called to the prisoner in a loud voice, and became awful.

“O wretched man, speak!  The law supplicates before she exterminates you.  You, who feign to be mute, remember how mute is the tomb.  You, who appear deaf, remember that damnation is more deaf.  Think of the death which is worse than your present state.  Repent!  You are about to be left alone in this cell.  Listen! you who are my likeness; for I am a man!  Listen, my brother, because I am a Christian!  Listen, my son, because I am an old man!  Look at me; for I am the master of your sufferings, and I am about to become terrible.  The terrors of the law make up the majesty of the judge.  Believe that I myself tremble before myself.  My own power alarms me.  Do not drive me to extremities.  I am filled by the holy malice of chastisement.  Feel, then, wretched man, the salutary and honest