seated, and he said, looking round, "Monsieur
Doltaire--he is not here?"

Bigot shook his head, and answered, "No doubt he is detained at the
citadel."

"And the Seigneur Duvarney?" the Governor added.

At that moment the Governor's secretary handed him a letter. The
Governor opened it. "Listen," said he. He read to the effect that the
Seigneur Duvarney felt he was hardly fitted to be a just judge in this
case, remembering the conflict between his son and the notorious Captain
Moray. And from another standpoint, though the prisoner merited any fate
reserved for him, if guilty of spying, he could not forget that his
life had been saved by this British captain--an obligation which,
unfortunately, he could neither repay nor wipe out. After much
thought, he must disobey the Governor's summons, and he prayed that his
Excellency would grant his consideration thereupon.

I saw the Governor frown, but he made no remark, while Bigot said
something in his ear which did not improve his humour, for he replied
curtly, and turned to his secretary. "We must have two gentlemen more,"
he said.

At that moment Doltaire entered with the old gentleman of whom I have
written. The Governor instantly brightened, and gave the stranger a warm
greeting, calling him his "dear Chevalier;" and, after a deal of urging,
the Chevalier de la Darante was seated as one of my judges: which did
not at all displease me, for I liked his face.

I do not need to dwell upon the trial here. I have set down the facts
before. I had no counsel and no witnesses. There seemed no reason why
the trial should have dragged on all day, for I soon saw it was intended
to find me guilty. Yet I was surprised to see how Doltaire brought up a
point here and a question there in my favour, which served to lengthen
out the trial; and all the time he sat near the Chevalier de la Darante,
now and again talking with him.

It was late evening before the trial came to a close. The one point to
be established was that the letters taken from General Braddock were
mine, and that I had made the plans while a hostage. I acknowledged
nothing, and would not do so unless I was allowed to speak freely. This
was not permitted until just before I was sentenced.

Then Doltaire's look was fixed on me, and I knew he waited to see if
I would divulge the matter private between us. However, I stood by my
compact with him. Besides, it could not serve me to speak of it here, or
use it as an ar