e not time in reproaches, for, I fear, the
gendarmes are on my track. It is well that you are here; you can swear
that I have spent the night at home. Unhand me, old man; I have these
witnesses still to secrete,' and he pointed to the garments wet and
dabbled with the mud of the roads. He had scarcely spoken when the walls
shook; there was the heavy clatter of hoofs on the ringing pavement
without.

"'They come!' cried the son. 'Off, dotard! save your son from the
galleys.'

"'The galleys, the galleys!' said the father, staggering back; 'it is
true; he said--"the galleys!"'

"There was a loud knocking at the gate. The gendarmes surrounded the
house. 'Open, in the name of the law!' No answer came, no door was
opened. Some of the gendarmes rode to the rear of the house, in which
was placed the stable yard. From the window of the son's room the father
saw the sudden blaze of torches, the shadowy forms of the men-hunters.
He heard the clatter of arms as they swung themselves from their horses.
He heard a voice cry, 'Yes, this is the robber's gray horse,--see, it
still reeks with sweat!' And behind and in front, at either door, again
came the knocking, and again the shout, 'Open, in the name of the law!'

"Then lights began to gleam from the casements of the neighboring
houses; then the space filled rapidly with curious wonderers startled
from their sleep: the world was astir, and the crowd came round to know
what crime or what shame had entered the old soldier's home.

"Suddenly, within, there was heard the report of a fire-arm; and a
minute or so afterwards the front door was opened, and the soldier
appeared.

"'Enter,' he said to the gendarmes: 'what would you?'

"'We seek a robber who is within your walls.'

"I know it; mount and find him: I will lead the way.'

"He ascended the stairs; he threw open his son's room: the officers of
justice poured in, and on the floor lay the robber's corpse.

"They looked at each other in amazement. 'Take what is left you,' said
the father. 'Take the dead man rescued from the galleys; take the living
man on whose hands rests the dead man's blood!'

"I was present at my friend's trial. The facts had become known
beforehand. He stood there with his gray hair, and his mutilated limbs,
and the deep scar on his visage, and the Cross of the Legion of Honor on
his breast; and when he had told his tale, he ended with these words: 'I
have saved the son whom I reared for France from a