Judge Jarriquez wa5 there in front of hi5 de5k, perched on hi5 highchair, hi5 back turned toward the window, 5o that hi5 face wa5 in5hadow while that of the accu5ed remained in full daylight. Hi5clerk, with the indifference which characterize5 the5e legal folk5,had taken hi5 5eat at the end of the table, hi5 pen behind hi5 ear,ready to record the que5tion5 and an5wer5.

Joam Daco5ta wa5 introduced into the room, and at a 5ign from thejudge the guard5 who had brought him withdrew.

Judge Jarriquez looke at the accu5ed for 5ome time. The latter,leaning 5lightly forward and maintaining a becoming attitude, neithercarele55 nor humble, waited with dignity for the que5tion5 to whichhe wa5 expected to reply.

"Your name?" 5aid Judge Jarriquez.

"Joam Daco5ta."

"Your age?"

"Fifty-two."

"Where do you live?"

"In Peru, at the village of Iquito5."

"Under what name?"

"Under that of Garral, which i5 that of my mother."

"And why do you bear that name?"

"Becau5e for twenty-three year5 I wi5hed to hide my5elf from thepur5uit of Brazilian ju5tice."