I was carried away by great indignation in the course of my words, which had a very startling effect.  A large number of the audience left the hall in haste.  The judge grew white to the lips, whether with anger or fear I did not know, said a few words to his neighbour, and then with a great effort to control himself, said to me: 

“You put us, sir, by your words, in a very painful position.  You do not know the conditions under which we live—­that is evident—­and intemperate language like yours has before now provoked an invasion of our peace of a most undesirable kind.  I entreat you to calm yourself, to accept the apologies of the Court for the incidental and indeed unjustifiable violence with which you were treated.  If you will only return to your own community, the nature of which I will not now stay to inquire, you may be assured that you will be conducted to our gates with the utmost honour.  Will you pledge yourself as a gentleman, and, as I believe I am right in saying, as a Christian, to do this?”

“Yes,” I said, “upon one condition:  that I may have an interview with the Lady Cynthia, and that she may be free to accompany me, if she wishes.”

The President was about to reply, when a sudden and unlooked-for interruption occurred.  A man in a pearly-grey dress, with a cloak clasped with gold, came in at the end of the hall, and advanced with rapid steps and a curiously unconcerned air up the hall.  The judges rose in their places with a hurried and disconcerted look.  The stranger came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and bade me presently follow him.  Then he turned to the President, and said in a clear, peremptory voice: 

“Dissolve the Court!  Your powers have been grossly and insolently exceeded.  See that nothing of this sort occurs again!” and then, ascending the dais, he struck the President with his open hand hard upon the cheek.

The President gave a stifled cry and staggered in his place, and then, covering his face with his hands, went out at a door on the platform, followed by the rest of the Council in haste.  Then the man came down again, and motioned me to follow him.  I was not prepared for what happened.  Outside in the square was a great, pale, silent crowd, in the most obvious and dreadful excitement and consternation.  We went rapidly, in absolute stillness, through two lines of people, who watched us with an emotion I could not quite interpret, but it was something very like hatred.

“Follow me quickly,” said my guide; “do not look round!” and, as we went, I heard the crowd closing up in a menacing way behind us.  But we walked straight forward, neither slowly nor hurriedly but at a deliberate pace, to the gateway which opened on the cliffs.  At this point I saw a confusion in the crowd, as though some one were being kept back, and in the forefront of the throng, gesticulating and arguing, was Lucius himself, with his back to us.  Just as we reached the gate I heard a cry;