e, he had next become
furiously angry; then fear and utter dejection had followed one another.
But in precise proportion as the charges had accumulated, and the
evidence had become overwhelming, he had, so far from becoming
demoralized, seemed to recover his assurance.

"There is something curious about it," growled Mechinet. M. Daubigeon,
on the other hand, said nothing; but when M. de Boiscoran came out of
his dressing-room, fully dressed and ready, he said,--

"One more question, sir."

The poor man bowed. He was pale, but calm and self-possessed.

"I am ready to reply," he said.

"I'll be brief. You seemed to be surprised and indignant at any one's
daring to accuse you. That was weakness. Justice is but the work of man,
and must needs judge by appearances. If you reflect, you will see that
the appearances are all against you."

"I see it but too clearly."

"If you were on a jury, you would not hesitate to pronounce a man guilty
upon such evidence."

"No, sir, no!"

The commonwealth attorney bounded from his chair. He said,--

"You are not sincere!"

M. de Boiscoran sadly shook his head, and replied,--

"I speak to you without the slightest hope of convincing you, but in all
sincerity. No, I should not condemn a man, as you say, if he asserted
his innocence, and if I did not see any reason for his crime. For, after
all, unless a man is mad, he does not commit a crime for nothing. Now I
ask you, how could I, upon whom fortune has always smiled; I who am on
the eve of marrying one whom I love passionately,--how could I have set
Valpinson on fire, and tried to murder Count Claudieuse?"

M. Galpin had scarcely been able to disguise his impatience, when he
saw the attorney take part in the affair. Seizing, therefore, the
opportunity to interfere, he said,--

"Your reason, sir, was hatred. You hated the count and the countess
mortally. Do not protest: it is of no use. Everybody knows it; and you
yourself have told me so."

M. de Boiscoran looked as if he were growing still more pale, and then
replied in a tone of crushing disdain,--

"Even if that were so, I do not see what right you have to abuse the
confidence of a friend, after having declared, upon your arrival here,
that all friendship between us had ceased. But that is not so. I never
told you any such thing. As my feelings have never changed, I can
repeat literally what I have said. I have told you that the count was
a troublesome neighbor, a st