"Write it down, Mechinet," said the commonwealth attorney with great eagerness,--"write that down carefully."

The clerk was sure to do it.

"What surprised me most," continued Trumence, "was, that the countess seemed to consider M. Jacques guilty, and he thought she was. Each accused the other of the crime. She said, 'You attempted the life of my husband, because you were afraid of him!' And he said, 'You wanted to kill him, so as to be free, and to prevent my marriage!'"

M. Galpin had sunk into a chair: he stammered,--

"Did anybody ever hear such a thing?"

"However, they explained; and at last they found out that they were both of them innocent. Then M. Jacques entreated the countess to save him; and she replied that she would certainly not save him at the expense of her reputation, and so enable him, as soon as he was free once more, to marry Miss Chandore. Then he said to her, 'Well, then I must tell all;'

and she, 'You will not be believed. I shall deny it all, and you have no proof!' In his despair, he reproached her bitterly, and said she had never loved him at all. Then she swore she loved him more than ever; and that, as he was free now, she was ready to abandon every thing, and to escape with him to some foreign country. And she conjured him to flee, in a voice which moved my heart, with loving words such as I have never heard before in my life, and with looks which seemed to be burning fire.

What a woman! I did not think he could possibly resist. And yet he did resist; and, perfectly beside himself with anger, he cried, 'Rather the galleys!' Then she laughed, mocking him, and saying, 'Very well, you shall go to the galleys!'"

Although Trumence entered into many details, it was quite evident that he kept back many things.

Still M. Daubigeon did not dare question him, for fear of breaking the thread of his account.

"But that was nothing at all," said the vagrant. "While M. Jacques and the countess were quarrelling in this way, I saw the door of the parlor suddenly open as if by itself, and a phantom appear in it, dressed in a funeral pall. It was Count Claudieuse himself. His face looked terrible; and he had a revolver in his hand. He was leaning against the side of the door; and he listened while his wife and M. Jacques were talking of their former love-affairs. At certain words, he would raise his pistol as if to fire; then he would lower it again, and go on listening. It was so awful, I had not a dry thread on my body. It was very hard not to cry out to M. Jacques and the countess, 'You poor people, don't you see that the count is there?' But they saw nothing; for they were both beside themselves with rage and despair: and at last M. Jacques actually raised his hand to strike the countess. 'Do not strike that woman!' suddenly said the count. They turn round; they see him, and utter a fearful cry.

The countess fell on a chair as if she were dead. I was thunderstruck.

I never in my life saw a man behave so beautifully as M. Jacques did at that moment. Instead of trying to escape, he opened his coat, and baring his breast, he said to the husband, 'Fire! You are in your right!' The count, however, laughed contemptuously, and said, 'The court will avenge me!'--'You know very well that I am innocent.'--'All the better.'--'It would be infamous to let me be condemned.'--'I shall do more than that.

To make your condemnation sure, I shall say that I recognized you.'

The count was going to step forward, as he said this; but he was dying.

Great G.o.d, what a man! He fell forward, lying at full-length on the floor. Then I got frightened, and ran away."

By a very great effort only could the commonwealth attorney control his intense excitement. His voice, however, betrayed him as he asked Trumence, after a solemn pause,--

"Why did you not come and tell us all that at once?"

The vagabond shook his head, and said,--

"I meant to do so; but I was afraid. You ought to understand what I mean. I was afraid I might be punished very severely for having run off."

"Your silence has led the court to commit a grievous mistake."

"I had no idea M. Jacques would be found guilty. Big people like him, who can pay great lawyers, always get out of trouble. Besides, I did not think Count Claudieuse would carry out his threat. To be betrayed by one's wife is hard; but to send an innocent man to the galleys"--

"Still you see"--

"Ah, if I could have foreseen! My intentions were good; and I a.s.sure you, although I did not come at once to denounce the whole thing, I was firmly resolved to make a clean breast of it if M. Jacques should get into trouble. And the proof of it is, that instead of running off, and going far away, I very quietly lay concealed at the Red Lamb, waiting for the sentence to be published. As soon as I heard what was done last night, I did not lose an hour, and surrendered at once to the gendarmes."

In the meantime, M. Galpin had overcome his first amazement, and now broke out furiously,--

"This man is an impostor. The money he showed us was paid him to bear false witness. How can we credit his story?"

"We must investigate the matter," replied M. Daubigeon. He rang the bell; and, when the usher came in, he asked,--

"Have you done what I told you?"

"Yes, sir," replied the man. "M. de Boiscoran and the servant of Count Claudieuse are here."

"Bring in the woman: when I ring, show M. de Boiscoran in."

This woman was a big country-girl, plain of face, and square of figure.

She seemed to be very much excited, and looked crimson in her face.

"Do you remember," asked M. Daubigeon, "that one night last week a man came to your house, and asked to see your mistress?"

"Oh, yes!" replied the honest girl. "I did not want to let him in at first; but he said he came from the court, and then I let him in."

"Would you recognize him?"

"Certainly."

The commonwealth attorney rang again; the door opened, and Jacques came in, his face full of amazement and wonder.

"That is the man!" cried the servant.

"May I know?" asked the unfortunate man.

"Not yet!" replied M. Daubigeon. "Go back, and be of good hope!"

But Jacques remained standing where he was, like a man who has suddenly been overcome, looking all around with amazed eyes, and evidently unable to comprehend.

How could he have comprehended what was going on?

They had taken him out of his cell without warning; they had carried him to the court-house; and here he was confronted with Trumence, whom he thought he should never see again, and with the servant of the Countess Claudieuse.

M. Galpin looked the picture of consternation; and M. Daubigeon, radiant with delight, bade him be of good hope.

Hopeful of what? How? To what purpose?

And Mechinet made him all kinds of signs.

The usher who had brought him in had actually to take him out.

Immediately the commonwealth attorney turned again to the servant-girl and said,--

"Now, my good girl, can you tell me if any thing special happened in connection with this gentleman's visit at your house?"

"There was a great quarrel between him and master and mistress."

"Were you present?"

"No. But I am quite certain of what I say."

"How so?"

"Well, I will tell you. When I went up stairs to tell the countess that there was a gentleman below who came from the courts, she was in a great hurry to go down, and told me to stay with the count, my master. Of course, I did what she said. But no sooner was she down than I heard a loud cry. Master, who had looked all in a stupor, heard it too: he raised himself on his pillow, and asked me where my mistress was. I told him, and he was just settling down to try and fall asleep again, when the sound of loud voices came up to us. 'That is very singular,' said master. I offered to go down and see what was the matter: but he told me sharply not to stir an inch. And, when the voices became louder and louder, he said, 'I will go down myself. Give me my dressing-gown.'