And so it came about that neither the General von Zoesch nor Calabressa was present when the trial, if trial it could be called, took place.  There were no formalities.  In this same big bare room seven members of the Council sat at the table, Brother Conventz presiding, the Secretary Granaglia at the foot, with writing-materials before him.  Ferdinand Lind and Beratinsky stood between them and the side-wall apparently impassive.  Reitzei was nearer the window, pallid, uneasy, his eyes wandering about the room, but avoiding the place where his former colleagues stood.

The President briefly stated the accusation against them, and read Reitzei’s account of his share in what had taken place.  He asked if they had anything to deny or to explain.

Beratinsky was the first to speak.

“Illustrious Brethren of the Council,” he began, as if with some set speech; but his color suddenly forsook him, and he halted and looked helplessly round.  Then he said, wildly, “I declare that I am innocent—­I say that I am innocent!  I never should have thought of it, gentlemen.  It was Lind’s suggestion; he wished to get rid of the man; I declare I had nothing to gain.  Gentlemen, judge for yourselves:  what had I to gain?”

He looked from one to the other; the grave faces were mostly regarding Granaglia, who was slowly and carefully putting the words down.

Then Lind spoke, clearly and coldly: 

“I have nothing to deny.  What I did was done in the interests of the Society.  My reward for my long services is that I am haled here like a pickpocket.  It is the second time; it will be the last.  I have done, now, with the labor of my life.  You can reap the fruits of it.  Do with me what you please.”

The President rose.

“The gentlemen may now retire; the decision of the Council will be communicated to them hereafter.”

A bell rung; Tommaso appeared; Lind and Beratinsky were conducted down the stairs and through the dark corridor.  In a few seconds Tommaso returned, and performed a like office for Reitzei.

The deliberation of the Council were but of short duration.  The guilt of the accused was clear; and clear and positive was the penalty prescribed by the articles of the Society.  But, in consideration of the fact that Beratinsky had been led into this affair by Lind, it was resolved to offer him the alternative of his taking over the service from which Brand was released.  This afforded but a poor chance of escape, but Beratinsky was in a desperate position.  That same evening he accepted; and the Secretary Granaglia was forthwith ordered to report the result of these proceedings to England, and give certain instructions as to the further conduct of business there.

The Secretary Granaglia performed this task with his usual equanimity.  He was merely a machine registering the decrees of the Council; it was no affair of his to be concerned about the fate of Ferdinand Lind; he had even forgotten the existence of the two women who had been patiently waiting day after day at that hotel, alternately hoping and fearing to learn what had occurred.