The other six produced a strange, chaotic, incongruous impression, exactly as though they had all hastily pooled not merely their clothes, but their hands, feet and heads as well.  There was a man with the splendid profile of a Roman senator, dressed in rags and tatters.  Another wore an elegant dress waistcoat, from the deep opening of which a dirty Little-Russian shirt leapt to the eye.  Here were the unbalanced faces of the criminal type, but looking with a confidence that nothing could shake.  All these men, in spite of their apparent youth, evidently possessed a large experience of life, an easy manner, a bold approach, and some hidden, suspicious cunning.

The gentleman in the sandy suit bowed just his head, neatly and easily, and said with a half-question in his voice:  “Mr. Chairman?”

“Yes.  I am the chairman.  What is your business?”

“We—­all whom you see before you,” the gentleman began in a quiet voice and turned round to indicate his companions, “we come as delegates from the United Rostov-Kharkov-and-Odessa-Nikolayev Association of Thieves.”

The barristers began to shift in their seats.

The chairman flung himself back and opened his eyes wide.  “Association of what?” he said, perplexed.

“The Association of Thieves,” the gentleman in the sandy suit coolly repeated.  “As for myself, my comrades did me the signal honour of electing me as the spokesman of the deputation.”

“Very ... pleased,” the chairman said uncertainly.

“Thank you.  All seven of us are ordinary thieves—­naturally of different departments.  The Association has authorised us to put before your esteemed Committee”—­the gentleman again made an elegant bow—­“our respectful demand for assistance.”

“I don’t quite understand ... quite frankly ... what is the connection...”  The chairman waved his hands helplessly.  “However, please go on.”

“The matter about which we have the courage and the honour to apply to you, gentlemen, is very clear, very simple, and very brief.  It will take only six or seven minutes.  I consider it my duty to warn you of this beforehand, in view of the late hour and the 115 degrees that Fahrenheit marks in the shade.”  The orator expectorated slightly and glanced at his superb gold watch.  “You see, in the reports that have lately appeared in the local papers of the melancholy and terrible days of the last pogrom, there have very often been indications that among the instigators of the pogrom who were paid and organised by the police—­the dregs of society, consisting of drunkards, tramps, souteneurs, and hooligans from the slums—­thieves were also to be found.  At first we were silent, but finally we considered ourselves under the necessity of protesting against such an unjust and serious accusation, before the face of the whole of intellectual society.  I know well that in the eye of the law we are offenders and enemies of society.  But imagine only for