I realize that my headlong blindness dragged me to a crime that I shall never forget.

I am sufficiently punished in the death of my son....

But that does not matter; let them sentence me, too." The chief remained sunk in deep reflection, forehead in hand and elbow on the table.

Ferragut recognized here military justice, expeditious, intuitive, passional, attentive to the sentiments that have scarcely any weight in other tribunals, judging by the action of conscience more than by the letter of the law, and capable of shooting a man with the same dispatch that he would employ in setting him at liberty.
When the eyes of the judge again fixed themselves upon him, they had an indulgent light.

He had been guilty, not on account of money nor treason, but crazed by a woman.