He was afraid, yes, and bewildered at being caught in this cruel web of circumstance.

But most of all he was incensed and shamed by this indignity.

He could not trust himself to speak, he would break down.
Something was wrong, _everything_ was wrong, fate was against him, he could not grapple with the situation.

If he spoke, he would say too much and lose his temper in that solemn hall of justice.

And what would happen to him then?
His hands played nervously with his old cap, he bit his lips, and tried to repress the torrent that was surging in him.