Noon
Must not everything surely crumble ? Was not this solemn assize of human justice a derisive parody , since all that one found there was an assembly of happy and privileged people defending the shaky edifice which sheltered them , and making use of all the forces they yet retained , to crush a fly -- that unhappy devil of uncertain sanity who had been led to that court by his violent and cloudy dream of another , superior and avenging justice ? Such were Guillaume 's thoughts , when all at once everybody around him started . Noon was now striking , and the jurymen trooped into court in straggling fashion and took their seats in their box . Among them one saw fat fellows clad in their Sunday best and with the faces of simpletons , and thin fellows who had bright eyes and sly expressions . Some of them were bearded and some were bald . However , they all remained rather indistinct , as their side of the court was steeped in shade .