it with my own eyes.
I had come to the Manor Cartier by the road, down the hill--Mont
Violet--behind the house. I could see into the windows of the house.
There was no reason why I should not see--there never has been a
reason," he added, as though to justify himself.

"Of course, of course, my friend. One's eyes are open, and one sees what
one sees, without looking for it. Proceed."

"As I looked down I saw Madame with a man's arms round her, and his lips
to hers. It was not Jean Jacques."

"Of course, of course. Proceed. What did you do?"

"I stopped. I fell back--"

"Of course. Behind a tree?"

"Behind some elderberry bushes."

"Of course. Elderberry bushes--that's better than a tree. I am very fond
of elderberry wine when it is new. Proceed."

The Clerk of the Court shrank. What did it matter whether or no the
Judge liked elderberry wine, when the world was falling down for Jean
Jacques and his Zoe--and his wife. But with a sigh he continued: "There
is nothing more. I stayed there for awhile, and then crept up the hill
again, and came back to my home and locked myself in."

"What had you done that you should lock yourself in?"

"Ah, monsieur, how can I explain such things? Perhaps I was ashamed that
I had seen things I should not have seen. I do not blush that I wept for
the child, who is--but you saw her, monsieur le juge."

"Yes, yes, the little Zoe, and the little philosopher. Proceed."

"What more is there to tell!"

"A trifle perhaps, as you will think," remarked the Judge ironically,
but as one who, finding a crime, must needs find the criminal too.
"I must ask you to inform the Court who was the too polite friend of
Madame."

"Monsieur, pardon me. I forgot. It is essential, of course. You must
know that there is a flume, a great wooden channel--"

"Yes, yes. I comprehend. Once I had a case of a flume. It was fifteen
feet deep and it let in the water of the river to the mill-wheels.
A flume regulates, concentrates, and controls the water power. I
comprehend perfectly. Well?"

"So. This flume for Jean Jacques' mill was also fifteen feet deep
or more. It was out of repair, and Jean Jacques called in a
master-carpenter from Laplatte, Masson by name--George Masson--to put
the flume right."

"How long ago was that?"

"A month ago. But Masson was not here all the time. It was his workmen
who did the repairs, but he came over to see--to superintend. At first
he came twice in the week. Then he