ong, and with an expression of idiotic beatitude. Then patting his
stomach with his hands, he said,--

"That's--that's--that's--good!"

M. Daubigeon whispered into Dr. Seignebos's ear,--

"Ah, I begin to see! I notice from Cocoleu's eyes, that this practice
with the bottle must have been going on for some time already. Cocoleu
is drunk."

Goudar again took up his violin and repeated his song.

"I--I--want--want to--to drink!" stammered Cocoleu.

Goudar kept him waiting a little while, and then handed him the bottle.
The idiot threw back his head, and drank till he had lost his breath.
Then Goudar asked,--

"Ah! you did not have such good wine to drink at Valpinson?"

"Oh, yes!" replied Cocoleu.

"But as much as you wanted?"

"Yes. Quite--enough."

And, laughing with some difficulty, he stammered, and stuttered out,--

"I got--got into the cellar through one of the windows; and I
drank--drank through--through a--a straw."

"You must be sorry you are no longer there?"

"Oh, yes!"

"But, if you were so well off at Valpinson, why did you set it on fire?"

The witnesses of the strange scene crowded to the little window of the
cell, and held their breath with eager expectation.

"I wanted to burn some fagots only, to make the count come out. It was
not my fault, if the whole house got on fire."

"And why did you want to kill the count?"

"Because I wanted the great lady to marry M. de Boiscoran."

"Ah! She told you to do it, did she?"

"Oh, no! But she cried so much; and then she told me she would be so
happy if her husband were dead. And she was always good to Cocoleu; and
the count was always bad; and so I shot him."

"Well! But why, then, did you say it was M. de Boiscoran who shot the
count?"

"They said at first it was me. I did not like that. I would rather they
should cut off his head than mine."

He shuddered as he said this, so that Goudar, afraid of having gone
rather too fast, took up his violin, and gave him a verse of his song
to quiet him. Then accompanying his words still now and then with a few
notes, and after having allowed Cocoleu to caress his bottle once more,
he asked again,--

"Where did you get a gun?"

"I--I had taken it from the count to shoot birds: and I--I have it
still--still. It is hid in the hole where Michael found me."

Poor Dr. Seignebos could not stand it any longer. He suddenly pushed
open the door, and, rushing into the court, he cried,--

"Bravo, Goud