ased upon such a hope. But justice,
fool, is not to be cozened. Had you, indeed, been Bardelys, you had seen
that here in this court sits a gentleman who is very intimate with him.
He is there, monsieur; that is Monsieur le Comte de Chatellerault, of
whom perhaps you may have heard. Yet, when I ask you whether in Toulouse
there is any one who can bear witness to your identity, you answer me
that you know of no one. I will waste no more time with you, I promise
you."

He flung himself back into his chair like a man exhausted, and mopped
his brow with a great kerchief which he had drawn from his robes. His
fellow judges laid their heads together, and with smiles and nods, winks
and leers, they discussed and admired the miraculous subtlety and acumen
of this Solomon. Chatellerault sat, calmly smiling, in solemn mockery.

For a spell I was too thunderstruck to speak, aghast at this
catastrophe. Like a fool, indeed, I had tumbled into the pit that had
been dug for me by Chatellerault for I never doubted that it was of his
contriving. At last, "My masters," said I, "these conclusions may
appear to you most plausible, but, believe me, they are fallacious. I am
perfectly acquainted with Monsieur de Chatellerault, and he with me,
and if he were to speak the truth and play the man and the gentleman
for once, he would tell you that I am, indeed, Bardelys. But Monsieur le
Comte has ends of his own to serve in sending me to my doom. It is in a
sense through his agency that I am at present in this position, and that
I have been confounded with Lesperon. What, then, could it have availed
me to have made appeal to him? And yet, Monsieur le President, he was
born a gentleman, and he may still retain some notion of honour. Ask
him, sir--ask him point-blank, whether I am or not Marcel de Bardelys."

The firmness of my tones created some impression upon those feeble
minds. Indeed, the President went so far as to turn an interrogative
glance upon the Count. But Chatellerault, supremely master of the
situation, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled a pitying, long-suffering
smile.

"Must I really answer such a question, Monsieur le President?" he
inquired in a voice and with a manner that clearly implied how low would
be his estimate of the President's intelligence if he were, indeed,
constrained to do so.

"But no, Monsieur le Comte," replied the President with sudden haste,
and in scornful rejection of the idea. "There is no necessity th