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Benson, Arthur Christopher, 1862-1925

"The Child of the Dawn"


I do not know how long I spent in the dismal cell. I was in some
discomfort from the handling I had received, and in still greater
dejection of mind. Suddenly I heard footsteps approaching. Three of my
captors appeared, and told me roughly to go with them. So, a pitiable
figure, I limped along between two of them, the third following behind,
and was conducted through the central piazza of the place, between two
lines of people who gave way to the most undisguised merriment, and even
shouted opprobrious remarks at me, calling me spy and traitor and other
unpleasant names. I could not have believed that these kind-mannered and
courteous persons could have exhibited, all of a sudden, such frank
brutality, and I saw many of my own acquaintance among them, who
regarded me with obvious derision.
I was taken into a big hall, in which I had often sat to hear a concert
of music. On the dais at the upper end were seated a number of dignified
persons, in a semicircle, with a very handsome and stately old man in
the centre on a chair of state, whose face was new to me. Before this
Court I was formally arraigned; I had to stand alone in the middle of
the floor, in an open space.


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