the thumb and two first fingers together, as if taking a pinch of something.  “Now, repeat after me, ’I promise and swear, by the Almighty God, by His holy gospels, and by the life-giving cross of our Lord, that in this work which,’” he said, pausing between each sentence—­“don’t let your arm down; hold it like this,” he remarked to a young man who had lowered his arm—­“’that in this work which . . . ’”

The dignified man with the whiskers, the colonel, the merchant, and several more held their arms and fingers as the priest required of them, very high, very exactly, as if they liked doing it; others did it unwillingly and carelessly.  Some repeated the words too loudly, and with a defiant tone, as if they meant to say, “In spite of all, I will and shall speak.”  Others whispered very low, and not fast enough, and then, as if frightened, hurried to catch up the priest.  Some kept their fingers tightly together, as if fearing to drop the pinch of invisible something they held; others kept separating and folding theirs.  Every one save the old priest felt awkward, but he was sure he was fulfilling a very useful and important duty.

After the swearing in, the president requested the jury to choose a foreman, and the jury, thronging to the door, passed out into the debating-room, where almost all of them at once began to smoke cigarettes.  Some one proposed the dignified man as foreman, and he was unanimously accepted.  Then the jurymen put out their cigarettes and threw them away and returned to the court.  The dignified man informed the president that he was chosen foreman, and all sat down again on the high-backed chairs.

Everything went smoothly, quickly, and not without a certain solemnity.  And this exactitude, order, and solemnity evidently pleased those who took part in it:  it strengthened the impression that they were fulfilling a serious and valuable public duty.  Nekhludoff, too, felt this.

As soon as the jurymen were seated, the president made a speech on their rights, obligations, and responsibilities.  While speaking he kept changing his position; now leaning on his right, now on his left hand, now against the back, then on the arms of his chair, now putting the papers straight, now handling his pencil and paper-knife.

According to his words, they had the right of interrogating the prisoners through the president, to use paper and pencils, and to examine the articles put in as evidence.  Their duty was to judge not falsely, but justly.  Their responsibility meant that if the secrecy of their discussion were violated, or communications were established with outsiders, they would be liable to punishment.  Every one listened with an expression of respectful attention.  The merchant, diffusing a smell of brandy around him, and restraining loud hiccups, approvingly nodded his head at every sentence.

CHAPTER IX.

The trial—­the prisoners questioned.