“In th’ coort-room th’ scene baffled description.  It was an inspirin’ sight f’r th’ judges, whin they were awake.  Row on row iv journalists, sharpin’ pencils an’ slappin’ each other’s faces, r-rose to th’ ceilin’.  Here an’ there cud be seen a brillyant uniform, denotin’ th’ prisince iv th’ London Times corryspondint.  Th’ lawn behind th’ coort was thronged with ex-mimbers iv th’ Fr-rinch governmint.  Th’ gin’ral staff, bein’ witnesses f’r th’ prosecution, sat with th’ coort:  th’ pris’ner, not bein’ able to find a chair, sat on th’ window-sill.  His inthrest in th’ proceedin’s was much noticed, an’ caused gr-reat amusement.  Ivrybody was talkin’ about th’ mysteryous lady in white.  Who is she?  Some say she is a Dhryfussard in th’ imploy iv Rothscheeld; others, that she is an agent iv th’ Anti-Semites.  No wan has learned her name.  She says she is Madame Lucille Gazahs, iv wan hundherd an’ eight Rue le Bombon, an’ is a fav’rite iv th’ Fr-rinch stage.  She is wan iv th’ great mysthries iv this ree-markable thrile.

“Afther th’ coort had kissed th’ witnesses, th’ proceedin’s opined.  ’Tis thrue, they kiss each other.  I wanst see a Fr-rinchman go f’r to kiss a man be th’ name iv Doherty, that inthrajooced risolutions in favor iv Fr-rance again Germany at a convintion.  Doherty thought he was afther his ear, an’ laid him out.  But in Fr-rance ’tis different.  They begin be kissin’, an’ this thrile opined this way.

“‘Pris’ner,’ said th’ prisident iv th’ coort, ‘th’ eyes iv Fr-rance is upon us, th’ honor iv th’ nation is at stake.  Th’ naytional definces, th’ integrity iv that ar-rmy upon which Fr-rance must depind in time iv peace, th’ virtue iv public life, an’ th’ receipts iv th’ exposition is involved.  Incidentally, ye ar-re bein’ thried.  But why dhrag in matthers iv no importance?  We ar-re insthructed, accordin’ to th’ pa-apers, be th’ Coort iv Cassation, to permit no ividince that does not apply to your connection with th’ case.  As sojers, we bow to th’ superyor will.  We will follow out th’ instructions iv th’ supreme coort.  We have not had time to read thim, but we will look at thim afther th’ thrile.  In th’ mane time we will call upon Gin’ral Merceer, that gallant man, to tell us th’ sthory iv his life.’

“‘I obey, mon colonel,’ says Gin’ral Merceer, kissin’ th’ coort.  ’Not to begin too far back, an’ to make a long sthory short, I am an honest man, an’ th’ son iv an honest man.  I admit it.’

“‘Good,’ says th’ prisident.  ‘D’ye recognize th’ pris’ner?’ ‘I do,’ says Gin’ral Merceer, ‘I seen him wanst dhrinkin’ a shell iv Munich beer in a caafe. [Marked sensation in th’ coort, an’ cries iv ’Abase la bock.’]