This made him suddenly bold. "'Thou shalt not bear false witness against
thy neighbour,'--that is the commandment, is it not, m'sieu' le juge?
You are doing against me what I didn't do in Court to-day. I saved a man
from your malice."
The crook of the Judge's cane caught the Spaniard's arm, and held him
gently.
"You're possessed of a devil, Dolores," he said, "and I hope I'll never
have to administer justice in your case. I might be more man than judge.
But you will come to no good end. You will certainly--"
He got no further, for the attention of all was suddenly arrested by a
wagon driving furiously round the corner of the Court House. It was a
red wagon. In it was Jean Jacques Barbille.
His face was white and set; his head was thrust forward, as though
looking at something far ahead of him; the pony stallions he was driving
were white with sweat, and he had an air of tragic helplessness and
panic.
Suddenly a child ran across the roadway in front of the ponies, and the
wild cry of the mother roused Jean Jacques out of his agonized trance.
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