“Why have I been brought here, your worships?” I asked, with a great
deal of firmness.
There were two figures in black, the one beside, the other behind a
large black table. I was placed in front of them, between two soldiers,
in the centre of a large, gaunt room, with bare, dirty walls, and the
arms of Spain above the judge’s seat.
“You are before the _Juez de la Primiera Instancia_,” said the man in
black beside the table. He wore a large and shadowy tricorn. “Be silent,
and respect the procedure.”
It was, without doubt, excellent advice. He whispered some words in the
ear of the Judge of the First Instance. It was plain enough to me that
the judge was a quite inferior official, who merely decided whether
there were any case against the accused; he had, even to his clerk, an
air of timidity, of doubt.