his march.  But he had no sooner entered the next bend of that obscure and winding avenue than the most lamentable, lusty cries assailed him.  Again he stood still, blinded by his own light.  Somewhere at hand a citizen was being beaten, for vague, quick-moving forms emerged into the radiance of his lanthorn out of the deep violet of the night air.  The cries swelled, and died away, and swelled; and the mazed Cethru moved forward on his way.  But very near the end of his first traversage, the sound of a long, deep sighing, as of a fat man in spiritual pain, once more arrested him.

“Drat me!” he thought, “this time I will see what ’tis,” and he spun round and round, holding his lanthorn now high, now low, and to both sides.  “The devil an’ all’s in it to-night,” he murmured to himself; “there’s some’at here fetchin’ of its breath awful loud.”  But for his life he could see nothing, only that the higher he held his lanthorn the more painful grew the sound of the fat but spiritual sighing.  And desperately, he at last resumed his progress.

On the morrow, while he still slept stretched on his straw pallet, there came to him a member of the Watch.

“Old man, you are wanted at the Court House; rouse up, and bring your lanthorn.”

Stiffly Cethru rose.

“What be they wantin’ me fur now, mester?”

“Ah!” replied the Watchman, “they are about to see if they can’t put an end to your goings-on.”

Cethru shivered, and was silent.

Now when they reached the Court House it was patent that a great affair was forward; for the Judges were in their robes, and a crowd of advocates, burgesses, and common folk thronged the careen, lofty hall of justice.

When Cethru saw that all eyes were turned on him, he shivered still more violently, fixing his fascinated gaze on the three Judges in their emerald robes.

“This then is the prisoner,” said the oldest of the Judges; “proceed with the indictment!”

A little advocate in snuff-coloured clothes rose on little legs, and commenced to read: 

“Forasmuch as on the seventeenth night of August fifteen hundred years since the Messiah’s death, one Celestine, a maiden of this city, fell into a cesspool in the Vita Publica, and while being quietly drowned, was espied of the burgess Pardonix by the light of a lanthorn held by the old man Cethru; and, forasmuch as, plunging in, the said Pardonix rescued her, not without grave risk of life and the ruin, of his clothes, and to-day lies ill of fever; and forasmuch as the old man Cethru was the cause of these misfortunes to the burgess Pardonix, by reason of his wandering lanthorn’s showing the drowning maiden, the Watch do hereby indict, accuse, and otherwise place charge upon this Cethru of ‘Vagabondage without serious occupation.’

“And, forasmuch as on this same night the Watchman Filepo, made aware, by the light of this said Cethru’s lanthorn, of three sturdy footpads, went to arrest them, and was set on by the rogues and well-nigh slain, the Watch do hereby indict, accuse, and otherwise charge upon Cethru complicity in this assault, by reasons, namely, first, that he discovered the footpads to the Watchman and the Watchman to the footpads by the light of his lanthorn; and, second, that, having thus discovered them, he stood idly by and gave no assistance to the law.