The terror-stricken sufferer, whom Gwynplaine now saw distinctly, seemed a man about fifty or sixty years of age. He was bald. A few grizzly hairs bristled on his chin. His eyes were closed; his mouth open. Every tooth could be seen. His thin and bony face was like a death's-head. His arms and legs were fastened by chains to the four stone pillars in the shape of the letter X. He had on his breast and belly an iron plate, on which five or six large stones were laid. His rattle was at times a sigh, at times a roar.
The sheriff, still holding his bunch of roses, took from the table with the hand which was free his white wand, and standing up said, "Obedience to her Majesty." Then he replaced the wand upon the table. Then in words long-drawn as a knell, without a gesture, and immovable as the sufferer, the sheriff, raising his voice, said:—
"Man, who liest here bound in chains, listen for the last time to the voice of justice! You have been taken from your dungeon and brought to this jail. Legally summoned in the usual forms, formaliis verbis pressus; not regarding lectures and communications which have been made, and which will now be repeated, to you; inspired by a bad and perverse spirit of obstinacy, you have preserved silence, and refused to answer the judge. This is a detestable offence, which constitutes, among deeds punishable by cashlit, the crime and misdemeanour of overseness."
The serjeant of the coif on the right of the sheriff interrupted him, and said, with an indifference which was indescribably lugubrious in its effect: "Overhernessa. Laws of Alfred and of Godrun, chapter the sixth."
The sheriff resumed: "The law is respected by all except by scoundrels who infest the woods where the hinds bear young."
