oted to
you----"

"Pray go on, Monsieur le Juge," said Collin coolly, in answer to a
pause; "I am listening to you."

"Your aunt, who is about five years older than you are, was formerly
Marat's mistress--of odious memory. From that blood-stained source she
derived the little fortune she possesses.

"From information I have received she must be a very clever receiver of
stolen goods, for no proofs have yet been found to commit her on. After
Marat's death she seems, from the notes I have here, to have lived with
a chemist who was condemned to death in the year XII. for issuing false
coin. She was called as witness in the case. It was from this intimacy
that she derived her knowledge of poisons.

"In 1812 and in 1816 she spent two years in prison for placing girls
under age upon the streets.

"You were already convicted of forgery; you had left the banking house
where your aunt had been able to place you as clerk, thanks to the
education you had had, and the favor enjoyed by your aunt with certain
persons for whose debaucheries she supplied victims.

"All this, prisoner, is not much like the dignity of the Dukes d'Ossuna.

"Do you persist in your denial?"

Jacques Collin sat listening to Monsieur Camusot, and thinking of his
happy childhood at the College of the Oratorians, where he had been
brought up, a meditation which lent him a truly amazed look. And in
spite of his skill as a practised examiner, Camusot could bring no sort
of expression to those placid features.

"If you have accurately recorded the account of myself I gave you at
first," said Jacques Collin, "you can read it through again. I cannot
alter the facts. I never went to the woman's house; how should I know
who her cook was? The persons of whom you speak are utterly unknown to
me."

"Notwithstanding your denial, we shall proceed to confront you with
persons who may succeed in diminishing your assurance"

"A man who has been three times shot is used to anything," replied
Jacques Collin meekly.

Camusot proceeded to examine the seized papers while awaiting the return
of the famous Bibi-Lupin, whose expedition was amazing; for at half-past
eleven, the inquiry having begun at ten o'clock, the usher came in to
inform the judge in an undertone of Bibi-Lupin's arrival.

"Show him in," replied M. Camusot.

Bibi-Lupin, who had been expected to exclaim, "It is he," as he came
in, stood puzzled. He did not recognize his man in a face pitted with
s