Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/49

 There was a buzzing in the ears, as always when a man listens to time as it elapses.

Dean Burian returned after a while. Finished? No. It's the interval. "The presiding judge is certainly on the side of Kramář; whenever I said anything favourable to Kramář, his eyes twinkled at me."

The interval was over, the Dean was again called into the court-room. We walked about the room, passing the time away.

It was after 3 o'clock when my turn came.

I entered the court-room, looked round for the defendant and greeted him. Dr. Rašín was indifferent, as if he had been a bored spectator of the trial. Dr. Kramář,—pangs of sorrow clutched at my heart,—was sunken, his face was an ashen colour,—it was years since I had seen him and now like this. Editor Červinka seemed to be in a whimsical mood, and Zamazal, by means of whom the military tribunal, with remarkable sagacity, had increased the group of traitors to a quartette, was as mournful as the overcast day outside.

Dr. Peutelschmidt, the leading counsel for the prosecution, had seemingly acquired military smartness to perfection, although his head with its almost white hair, recalled the poet Robert Hamerling. In civil life he was, l understood, a police magistrate, also very smart and stern,—here his manners, yes, they reminded me of the army; that is how an old gaunt sergeant-major browbeats a poor raw recruit for bad marching and faulty movements. Or, if you like, another comparison. He watched the defendants in the dock like a hawk, which has somewhere come upon four captured doves, and woe betide them if they advance a single word to defend themselves. These men were condemned in advance, ruined in advance. Why these ceremonies, cross-examinations, and all this martyrdom?

The members of the court were obviously tired, the presiding