The case was conducted in the same order as yesterday, with all the proofs, witnesses, experts, oath-taking, examinations and cross-examinations.  The policeman, when questioned by the justiciary, complainant and the defense, made listless answers—­“Yes, sir,” “Can’t tell,” and again “Yes, sir”—­but notwithstanding this, it was apparent that he pitied the boy and testified involuntarily against him.

Another witness, a splenetic old man who owned those mats, when asked if they belonged to him, unwillingly testified that they were his.  When, however, the prosecutor asked him what use he intended to make of them, and whether he needed them much, he became angry and answered:  “I wish they had been lost entirely, these mats.  I don’t need them at all.  And if I had known that you would make so much fuss about them, I would gladly have given ten rubles, or twenty, rather than be dragged into court.  I have spent five rubles on carriages coming here and going back again.  And I am sick; I am suffering from rupture and rheumatism.”

The prisoner admitted the charge against him, and, like a trapped animal, stupidly looked now to one side, now to the other, and in a halting voice related everything as it happened.

It was a clear case, but the prosecutor, as he did yesterday, raised his shoulders and propounded subtle questions which were calculated to entrap the clever criminal.

In his speech he argued that the theft was committed in a dwelling-house by breaking and entering it, and that therefore the severest punishment should be meted out to him.

Counsel for the defense, appointed by the court, argued that the theft was committed not in a dwelling-house, and that, though the prisoner pleaded guilty, he was not as dangerous to society as the prosecutor would have them believe.

The justiciary was the personification of impartiality and justice, and endeavored to impress on the jury that which they already knew and could not help knowing.  Again they took recesses and smoked cigarettes, and again the usher shouted “Hear ye!” and the two gendarmes sat trying to keep awake.

It developed during the trial that this boy had been apprenticed in a tobacco factory, in which he worked five years.  This year he was discharged by his employer after a misunderstanding with the employees, and, going idly about the city, he spent all he had on drink.  At an inn he met a locksmith who had also been discharged and was drinking hard, and the two went at night, while drunk, to that shed, broke the lock, and took the first thing they saw.  They were caught, and as they confessed they were imprisoned.  The locksmith, while waiting for a trial, died.  The boy was now being tried as a dangerous creature from whom it was necessary to protect society.

“As dangerous a creature as the prisoner of yesterday,” Nekhludoff thought while watching the proceedings.  “They are dangerous, but are we not dangerous?  I am a libertine, an impostor; and all of us, all those that know me as I am, not only do not detest but respect me.”