Everything proceeded smoothly, quickly and not without solemnity, and the regularity, order and solemnity evidently pleased the participants, confirming their sense of rendering important public service.  Nekhludoff also experienced this feeling.

As soon as the jury seated themselves the presiding justice instructed them in their rights, duties and responsibilities.  While speaking, he was constantly changing his attitude; now he leaned on his right hand, now on his left; then he reclined in his chair, or rested his hands on the arms of the chair, smoothed the corners of the paper on the table, polished the paper-knife or clutched the lead pencil.

Their rights, according to him, consisted in that they were allowed to question prisoners, through the presiding justice; they might keep pencils and paper, and might also view exhibits.  Their duties consisted in not giving a false verdict.  And their responsibilities consisted in that if they failed to keep secret their deliberations, or spoke to outsiders, they would be liable to punishment.

They all listened with respectful attention.  The merchant, from whom the fumes of wine spread through the jury box, and who was suppressing the noisy rising of gases in his stomach, approvingly nodded at every sentence.

CHAPTER IX.

After he had finished the instructions, the presiding justice turned to the prisoners.

“Simon Kartinkin, rise!” he said.

Simon sprang up nervously.  The muscles of his cheeks began to twitch still quicker.

“What is your name?”

“Simon Petroff Kartinkin,” he said quickly, in a sharp voice, evidently prepared for the question.

“What estate?”

“Peasant.”

“What government, district?”

“Government of Tula, district of Krapivensk, Kupian township, village of Borki.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-four; born in eighteen hundred——­”

“What faith?”

“Of the Russian orthodox faith.”

“Are you married?”

“O, no!”

“What is your occupation?”

“I was employed in the Hotel Mauritania.”

“Were you ever arrested before?”

“I was never arrested before, because where I lived——­”

“You were not arrested?”

“God forbid!  Never!”

“Have you received a copy of the indictment?”

“Yes.”

“Sit down.  Euphemia Ivanovna Bochkova!” The presiding justice turned to the next prisoner.

But Simon remained standing in front of Bochkova.

“Kartinkin, sit down!”

Kartinkin still remained standing.

“Kartinkin, sit down!”

But Kartinkin stood still until the usher, his head leaning to the side, and with wide-open eyes, whispered to him in a tragic tone: 

“Sit down, sit down!”

Kartinkin sat down as quickly as he rose, and wrapping himself in his coat began to move his cheeks.