upplies. There were bound to be many others acting like
Guillergues and Blaise, contriving disaster, ruining the Republic! An
example must be made. But if Guillergues was innocent...?

"There are no proofs," said Gamelin, aloud.

"There never are," retorted the foreman of the jury, shrugging his
shoulders; he was good metal, pure metal!

In the end, there proved to be seven votes for condemnation, eight for
acquittal.

The jury re-entered the hall and the sitting was resumed. The jurors
were required to give reasons for their verdict, and each spoke in turn
facing the empty chair. Some were prolix, others confined themselves to
a sentence; one or two talked unintelligible gabble.

When Gamelin's turn came, he rose and said:

"In presence of a crime so heinous as that of robbing the defenders of
the fatherland of the sinews of victory, we need formal proofs which we
have not got."

By a majority of votes the accused was declared not guilty.

Guillergues was brought in again and stood before his judges amid a hum
of sympathy from the spectators which conveyed the news of his acquittal
to him. He was another man. His features had lost their harshness, his
lips were relaxed again. He looked venerable; his face bore the
impression of innocence. The President read out in tones of emotion the
verdict releasing the prisoner; the audience broke into applause. The
gendarme who had brought Guillergues in threw himself into his arms. The
President called him to the dais and gave him the embrace of
brotherhood. The jurors kissed him, while Gamelin's eyes rained hot
tears.

The courtyard of the Palais, dimly lighted by the last rays of the
setting sun, was filled with a howling, excited crowd. The four sections
of the Tribunal had the day before pronounced thirty sentences of death,
and on the steps of the Great Stairway a throng of _tricoteuses_
squatted to see the tumbrils start. But Gamelin, as he descended the
steps among the press of jurors and spectators, saw nothing, heard
nothing but his own act of justice and humanity and the
self-congratulation he felt at having recognized innocence. In the
courtyard stood Elodie, all in white, smiling through her tears; she
threw herself into his arms and lay there half fainting. When she had
recovered her voice, she said to him:

"Evariste, you are noble, you are good, you are generous! In the hall
there, your voice, so gentle and manly, went right through me with its
magneti