ir foreheads. However, the passion roused by the scene still
brought a glow of cruel delight to every eye. And no one stirred.

"Ah!" sighed Rosemonde all at once, "to think that I hoped to drink a cup
of tea at a friend's at five o'clock. I shall die of thirst and
starvation here."

"We shall certainly be kept till seven," replied Massot. "I can't offer
to go and fetch you a roll, for I shouldn't be readmitted."

Then Duthil, who had not ceased shrugging his shoulders while Salvat read
his declaration, exclaimed: "What childish things he said, didn't he? And
to think that the fool is going to die for all that! Rich and poor,
indeed! Why, there will always be rich and poor. And it's equally certain
that when a man is poor his one great desire is to become rich. If that
fellow is in the dock to-day it's simply because he failed to make
money."

While the others were thus conversing, Pierre for his part was feeling
extremely anxious about his brother, who sat beside him in silence, pale
and utterly upset. Pierre sought his hand and covertly pressed it. Then
in a low voice he inquired: "Do you feel ill? Shall we go away?"

Guillaume answered him by discreetly and affectionately returning his
handshake. He was all right, he would remain till the end, however much
he might be stirred by exasperation.

It was now Monsieur Lehmann, the public prosecutor, who rose to address
the court. He had a large, stern mouth, and was squarely built, with a
stubborn Jewish face. Nevertheless he was known to be a man of dexterous,
supple nature, one who had a foot in every political camp, and invariably
contrived to be on good terms with the powers that were. This explained
his rapid rise in life, and the constant favour he enjoyed. In the very
first words he spoke he alluded to the new ministry gazetted that
morning, referring pointedly to the strong-handed man who had undertaken
the task of reassuring peaceable citizens and making evil-doers tremble.
Then he fell upon the wretched Salvat with extraordinary vehemence,
recounting the whole of his life, and exhibiting him as a bandit
expressly born for the perpetration of crime, a monster who was bound to
end by committing some abominable and cowardly outrage. Next he
flagellated Anarchism and its partisans. The Anarchists were a mere herd
of vagabonds and thieves, said he. That had been shown by the recent
robbery at the Princess de Harn's house. The ignoble gang that had been
arrested