taste
a prison for a couple of days, and I know well enough the mother will be
off in a jiffy for Paris when she gets him out. And then we needn't fear
the priests they talk of setting on the old fool."

When Flore Brazier came downstairs, she found the assembled crowd quite
prepared to take the impression she meant to give them. She went out
with tears in her eyes, and related, sobbing, how the painter, "who had
just the face for that sort of thing," had been angry with Max the night
before about some pictures he had "wormed out" of Pere Rouget.

"That brigand--for you've only got to look at him to see what he
is--thinks that if Max were dead, his uncle would leave him his fortune;
as if," she cried, "a brother were not more to him than a nephew! Max is
Doctor Rouget's son. The old one told me so before he died!"

"Ah! he meant to do the deed just before he left Issoudun; he chose
his time, for he was going away to-day," said one of the Knights of
Idleness.

"Max hasn't an enemy in Issoudun," said another.

"Besides, Max recognized the painter," said the Rabouilleuse.

"Where's that cursed Parisian? Let us find him!" they all cried.

"Find him?" was the answer, "why, he left Monsieur Hochon's at
daybreak."

A Knight of Idleness ran off at once to Monsieur Mouilleron. The crowd
increased; and the tumult became threatening. Excited groups filled up
the whole of the Grande-Narette. Others stationed themselves before the
church of Saint-Jean. An assemblage gathered at the porte Vilatte, which
is at the farther end of the Petite-Narette. Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin
and Monsieur Mouilleron, the commissary of police, the lieutenant of
gendarmes, and two of his men, had some difficulty in reaching the place
Saint-Jean through two hedges of people, whose cries and exclamations
could and did prejudice them against the Parisian; who was, it is
needless to say, unjustly accused, although, it is true, circumstances
told against him.

After a conference between Max and the magistrates, Monsieur Mouilleron
sent the commissary of police and a sergeant with one gendarme to
examine what, in the language of the ministry of the interior, is
called "the theatre of the crime." Then Messieurs Mouilleron and
Lousteau-Prangin, accompanied by the lieutenant of gendarmes crossed
over to the Hochon house, which was now guarded by two gendarmes in the
garden and two at the front door. The crowd was still increasing. The
whole town was sur