rced.

The witness took the oath to say the truth and nothing but the truth
("rien que la verite"), concluding with the solemn invocation, "Ainsi
m'aide Dieu." The parties had elected to have the proceedings taken in
French.

"Your name?" said the judge, as he studied the proces-verbal prepared by
the _procureur_.

"Jules F----."

"Age?"

"Cinquante-cinq."

"Profession?"

"Cordonnier."

"Residence?"

"Rue d'Ypres 32."

This preliminary catechism being completed, the prosecutor unfolded his
tale. He had been drinking the health of His Majesty the King of the
Belgians and confusion to his enemies in an _estaminet_ at the crowded
hour of 7 P.M. The accused had entered, and in the presence of many of
his neighbours had said to him, "Vous etes un Bosche." "Un Bosche!"
repeated the witness indignantly. "It is a gross defamation." With
difficulty had he been restrained from the shedding of blood. But, being
a law-abiding, peaceful man and the father of a family, he volubly
explained, he had laid this information ("denonciation") before the
_procureur du roi_.

The judge looked grave. But he duly noted down the testimony, after some
perfunctory cross-examination, and, it being read over to the witness,
the judge added "Lecture faite," and the persisting witness signed the
deposition with his own hand. The prosecutor having retired, two other
witnesses, whom he had vouched to warranty, came forward and testified
to the same effect. And they also signed their depositions and withdrew.

The magistrate ordered the usher to bring in the accused, who had been
summoned to appear by a _mandat d'amener_. He was a stout, dark,
convivial-looking soul, with a merry eye, not altogether convinced of
the enormity of his delict, and inclined at first to deprecate these
proceedings. But the dialectical skill of the magistrate soon tied him
into knots, and reduced him to a state of extreme penitence.

"Where were you on the 3rd of April at 7 P.M.?" began the magistrate,
making what gunners call a ranging shot. The accused appeared to have
been everywhere in Poperinghe except at the _estaminet_. He had been to
the butcher's, the baker's, and the candlestick-maker's.

"At what hour did you enter the Cafe a l'Harmonie?"

The accused tried to look as if he now heard of the Cafe "A l'Harmonie"
for the first time, but under the searching eye of the magistrate he
failed. He might, he conceded, have looked in there for a thirsty
mo