The gold she does not wish to keep, but will return
it to the person who lent it to her, desiring him not to tell any one;
won't you, Louise?"

"Your daughter is not accused of theft," said the magistrate.

"Well, then, what is the charge against her? I, her father, swear to you
that she is innocent of whatever crime they may accuse her of, and I
never told a lie in my life either."

"Why should you know what she is charged with?" said Rodolph, moved by
his distress. "Louise's innocence will be proved; the person who takes
so great an interest in you will protect your daughter. Come, come!
Courage, courage! This time Providence will not forsake you. Embrace
your daughter, and you will soon see her again."

"M. le Commissaire," cried Morel, not attending to Rodolph, "you are
going to deprive a father of his daughter without even naming the crime
of which she is accused! Let me know all! Louise, why don't you speak?"

"Your daughter is accused of child-murder," said the magistrate.

"I--I--I--child-mur--I don't--you--"

And Morel, aghast, stammered incoherently.

"Your daughter is accused of having killed her child," said the
commissary, deeply touched at this scene; "but it is not yet proved that
she has committed this crime."

"Oh, no, I have not, sir! I have not!" exclaimed Louise, energetically,
and rising; "I swear to you that it was dead. It never breathed,--it was
cold. I lost my senses,--this is my crime. But kill my child! Oh, never,
never!"

"Your child, abandoned girl!" cried Morel, raising his hands towards
Louise, as if he would annihilate her by this gesture and imprecation.

"Pardon, father, pardon!" she exclaimed.

After a moment's fearful silence, Morel resumed, with a calm that was
even more frightful:

"M. le Commissaire, take away that creature; she is not my child!"

The lapidary turned to leave the room; but Louise threw herself at his
knees, around which she clung with both arms; and, with her head thrown
back, distracted and supplicating, she exclaimed:

"Father, hear me! Only hear me!"

"M. le Commissaire, away with her, I beseech you! I leave her to you,"
said the lapidary, struggling to free himself from Louise's embrace.

"Listen to her," said Rodolph, holding him; "do not be so pitiless."

"To her! To her!" repeated Morel, lifting his two hands to his forehead,
"to a dishonoured wretch! A wanton! Oh, a wanton!"

"But, if she were dishonoured through her efforts to save yo