"Well," said M. Daubigeon, "so you have allowed yourself to be retaken?"

"Beg pardon, judge," replied the poor fellow, "I was not retaken. I came of my own accord."

"Involuntarily, you mean?"

"Quite by my own free will! Just ask the sergeant."

The sergeant stepped forward, touched his cap, and reported,--

"That is the naked truth. Trumence came himself to our barrack, and said, 'I surrender as a prisoner. I wish to speak to the commonwealth attorney, and give importance evidence.'"

The vagabond drew himself up proudly,--

"You see, sir, that I did not lie. While these gentlemen were galloping all over the country in search of me, I was snugly ensconced in a garret at the Red Lamb, and did not think of coming out from there till I should be entirely forgotten."

"Yes; but people who lodge at the Red Lamb have to pay, and you had no money."

Trumence very quietly drew from his pocket a handful of Napoleons, and of five-and-twenty-franc notes, and showed them.

"You see that I had the wherewithal to pay for my room," he said. "But I surrendered, because, after all, I am an honest man, and I would rather suffer some trouble myself than see an innocent gentleman go to the galleys."

"M. de Boiscoran?"

"Yes. He is innocent! I know it; I am sure of it; and I can prove it.

And, if he will not tell, I will tell,--tell every thing!"

M. Daubigeon and M. Galpin were utterly astounded.

"Explain yourself," they both said in the same breath.

But the vagrant shook his head, pointing at the gendarmes; and, as a man who is quite cognizant of all the formalities of the law, he replied,--

"But it is a great secret; and, when one confesses, one does not like anybody else to hear it but the priest. Besides, I should like my deposition to be taken down in writing."

Upon a sign made by M. Galpin, the gendarmes withdrew; and Mechinet took his seat at a table, with a blank sheet of paper before him.

"Now we can talk," said Trumence: "that's the way I like it. I was not thinking myself of running away. I was pretty well off in jail; winter is coming, I had not a cent; and I knew, that, if I were retaken, I should fare rather badly. But M. Jacques de Boiscoran had a notion to spend a night outside."

"Mind what you are saying," M. Galpin broke in severely. "You cannot play with the law, and go off unpunished."

"May I die if I do not tell the truth!" cried Trumence. "M. Jacques has spent a whole night out of jail."

The magistrate trembled.

"What a story that is!" he said again.

"I have my proof," replied Trumence coldly, "and you shall hear. Well, as he wanted to leave, M. Jacques came to me, and we agreed, that in consideration of a certain sum of money which he has paid me, and of which you have seen just now all that is left, I should make a hole in the wall, and that I should run off altogether, while he was to come back when he had done his business."

"And the jailer?" asked M. Daubigeon.

Like a true peasant of his promise, Trumence was far too cunning to expose Blangin unnecessarily. a.s.suming, therefore, the whole responsibility of the evasion, he replied,--

"The jailer saw nothing. We had no use for him. Was not I, so to say, under-jailer? Had not I been charged by you yourself, M. Galpin, with keeping watch over M. Jacques? Was it not I who opened and locked his door, who took him to the parlor, and brought him back again?"

That was the exact truth.

"Go on!" said M. Galpin harshly.

"Well," said Trumence, "every thing was done as agreed upon. One evening, about nine o'clock, I make my hole in the wall, and here we are, M. Jacques and I, on the ramparts. There he slips a package of banknotes into my hand, and tells me to run for it, while he goes about his business. I thought he was innocent then; but you see I should not exactly have gone through the fire for him as yet. I said to myself, that perhaps he was making fun of me, and that, once on the wing, he would not be such a fool as to go back into the cage. This made me curious, as he was going off, to see which way he was going,--and there I was, following him close upon his heels!"

The magistrate and the commonwealth attorney, accustomed as they both were, by the nature of their profession, to conceal their feelings, could hardly restrain now,--one, the hope trembling within him, and the other, the vague apprehensions which began to fill his heart.

Mechinet, who knew already all that was coming, laughed in his sleeve while his pen was flying rapidly over the paper.

"He was afraid he might be recognized," continued the vagrant, "and so M. Jacques had been running ever so fast, keeping close to the wall, and choosing the narrowest lanes. Fortunately, I have a pair of very good legs. He goes through Sauveterre like a race-horse; and, when he reaches Mautrec Street, he begins to ring the bell at a large gate."

"At Count Claudieuse's house!"

"I know now what house it was; but I did not know then. Well, he rings.

A servant comes and opens. He speaks to her, and immediately she invites him in, and that so eagerly, that she forgets to close the gate again."

M. Daubigeon stopped him by a gesture.

"Wait!" he said.

And, taking up a blank form, he filled it up, rang the bell, and said to an usher of the court who had hastened in, giving him the printed paper,--

"I want this to be taken immediately. Make haste; and not a word!"

Then Trumence was directed to go on; and he said,--

"There I was, standing in the middle of the street, feeling like a fool.

I thought I had nothing left me but to go and use my legs: that was safest for me. But that wretched, half-open gate attracted me. I said to myself, 'If you go in, and they catch you, they will think you have come to steal, and you'll have to pay for it.' That was true; but the temptation was too strong for me. My curiosity broke my heart, so to say, and, 'Come what may, I'll risk it,' I said. I push the huge gate just wide enough to let me in, and here I am in a large garden. It was pitch dark; but, quite at the bottom of the garden, three windows in the lower story of the house were lighted up. I had ventured too far now to go back. So I went on, creeping along stealthily, until I reached a tree, against which I pressed closely, about the length of my arm from one of the windows, which belonged to a beautiful parlor. I look--and I see whom? M. de Boiscoran. As there were no curtains to the windows, I could see as well as I can see you. His face looked terrible. I was asking myself for whom he could be waiting there, when I saw him hiding behind the open door of the room, like a man who is lying in wait for somebody, with evil intentions. This troubled me very much; but the next moment a lady came in. Instantly M. Jacques shuts the door behind her; the lady turns round, sees him, and wants to run, uttering at the same time a loud cry. That lady was the Countess Claudieuse!"

He looked as if he wished to pause to watch the effect of his revelation. But Mechinet was so impatient, that he forgot the modest character of his duty, and said hastily,--

"Go on; go on!"

"One of the windows was half open," continued the vagrant, "and thus I could hear almost as well as I saw. I crouched down on all-fours and kept my head on a level with the ground, so as not to lose a word. Oh, it was fearful! At the first word I understood it all: M. Jacques and the Countess Claudieuse had been lovers."

"This is madness!" cried M. Galpin.

"Well, I tell you I was amazed. The Countess Claudieuse--such a pious lady! But I have ears; don't you think I have? M. Jacques reminded her of the night of the crime, how they had been together a few minutes before the fire broke out, as they had agreed some days before to meet near Valpinson at that very time. At this meeting they had burnt their love-letters, and M. Jacques had blackened his fingers badly in burning them."

"Did you really hear that?" asked M. Daubigeon.

"As I hear you, sir."