CHAPTER XI.

When the reading of the indictment was finished, the justiciary, having consulted with his associates, turned to Kartinkin with an expression on his face which plainly betokened confidence in his ability to bring forth all the truth.

“Simon Kartinkin,” he called, leaning to the left.

Simon Kartinkin rose, put out his chest, incessantly moving his cheeks.

“You are charged, together with Euphemia Bochkova and Katherine Maslova, with stealing from the trunk of the merchant Smelkoff money belonging to him, and subsequently brought arsenic and induced Maslova to administer it to Smelkoff, by reason of which he came to his death.  Are you guilty or not guilty?” he said, leaning to the right.

“It is impossible, because our business is to attend the guests——­”

“You will speak afterwards.  Are you guilty or not?”

“No, indeed.  I only——­”

“You can speak later.  Do you admit that you are guilty?” calmly but firmly repeated the justiciary.

“I cannot do it because——­”

Again the usher sprang toward Simon and with a tragic whisper stopped him.

The justiciary, with an expression showing that the questioning was at an end, moved the hand in which he held a document to another place, and turned to Euphemia Bochkova.

“Euphemia Bochkova, you, with Kartinkin and Maslova, are charged with stealing, on the 17th day of January, 188-, at the Hotel Mauritania, from the trunk of the merchant Smelkoff, money and a ring, and dividing the same among yourselves, and with a view of hiding your crime, administered poison to him, from the effects of which he died.  Are you guilty?”

“I am not guilty of anything,” boldly and firmly answered the prisoner.  “I never entered the room—­and as that scurvy woman did go into the room, she, then, did the business——­”

“You will speak afterwards,” again said the justiciary, with the same gentleness and firmness.  “So you are not guilty?”

“I did not take the money, did not give him the poison, did not go into the room.  If I were in the room I should have thrown her out.”

“You are not guilty, then?”

“Never.”

“Very well.”

“Katherine Maslova,” began the justiciary, turning to the third prisoner.  “The charge against you is that, having come to the Hotel Mauritania with the key to Smelkoff’s trunk, you stole therefrom money and a ring,” he said, like one repeating a lesson learned by rote, and leaning his ear to the associate sitting on his left, who said that he noticed that the phial mentioned in the list of exhibits was missing.  “Stole therefrom money and a ring,” repeated the justiciary, “and after dividing the money again returned with the merchant Smelkoff to the Hotel Mauritania, and there administered to him poison, from the effects of which he died.  Are you guilty or not guilty?”