A Queer Race: The Story of a Strange People — page 178: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A QUEER RACE. 45 perchance not still alive, before trying to step into my shoes.” “The Diana went down in the storm—and it did not seem possible ” stammers Amyas, in a voice so broken as to be hardly audible. ; ‘‘ How know you she went down? And, even though you had seen me perish, would that have been enough to justify you in setting the Council at defiance and provok- ing a civil war? Amyas Fane, you are a murderer, a traitor, and a dastard.” ‘* Madame!” ‘‘l repeat it; a murderer, a traitor, and a dastard. You cut the Diana from her moorings in the hope that she would be carried out to sea, and that we who were on board would thereby perish. Don’t deny it; I know you did. It was a murderous, a traitorous, and a dastardly deed. And you wrote this letter to Mr. Erle, virtually threatening him with death if he obeyed not your behest ‘to leave the island aithin ten days, because, I suppose, you thought ] had in him a brave and devoted friend, who, in case of need, would defend my person and de- feat your plots! And so he has. ‘Twice, nay, three times, has he saved my life. But for him I should not be here to-night.” | To all this Amyas answers never a word. All his bold- ness has vanished; his knees bend under him, and he bows his head in shame and confusion. : “You have nothing to urge in your defense. You admit the truth of these charges. .It is better so. Without adding perjury to your othersins, you could not deny them. Gentlemen, [ appeal to you al/l--even to those of you who call yourselves his friends—what shall be done with this man, who virtually pleads guilty to a charge of actual treason and attempted murder? Pro- nounce his doom! It is not meet for me to be botn accuser and judge.” The queen paused for a reply; but none liked to utter the word which was in every mind, and there ensued a painful silence that lasted for several minutes. At Jength a white-haired member of the Council, who numbered more years than the century, broke the spell. ‘This man deserves death,” he said, slowly and delib- erately; and the sentence was repeated by fifty voices. Gomicbooks:.co