osia's actions, gestures, and words, than did the
false Martin Guerre those of the real one.

In accordance with the demand of the accused, Bertrande de Rolls was
detained in seclusion, in order to remove her from the influence of
Pierre Guerre. The latter, however, did not waste time, and during the
month spent in examining the witnesses cited by Martin, his diligent
enemy, guided by some vague traces, departed on a journey, from which he
did not return alone.

All the witnesses bore out the statement of the accused; the latter
heard this in prison, and rejoiced, hoping for a speedy release. Before
long he was again brought before the judge, who told him that his
deposition had been confirmed by all the witnesses examined.

"Do you know of no others?" continued the magistrate. "Have you no
relatives except those you have mentioned?"

"I have no others," answered the prisoner.

"Then what do you say to this man?" said the judge, opening a door.

An old man issued forth, who fell on the prisoner's neck, exclaiming,
"My nephew!"

Martin trembled in every limb, but only for a moment. Promptly
recovering himself, and gazing calmly at the newcomer, he asked coolly--

"And who may you be?"

"What!" said the old man, "do you not know me? Dare you deny me?--me,
your mother's brother, Carbon Barreau, the old soldier! Me, who dandled
you on my knee in your infancy; me, who taught you later to carry a
musket; me, who met you during the war at an inn in Picardy, when you
fled secretly. Since then I have sought you everywhere; I have spoken
of you, and described your face and person, until a worthy inhabitant of
this country offered to bring me hither, where indeed I did not expect
to find my sister's son imprisoned and fettered as a malefactor. What is
his crime, may it please your honour?"

"You shall hear," replied the magistrate. "Then you identify the
prisoner as your nephew? You affirm his name to be---?"

"Arnauld du Thill, also called 'Pansette,' after his father, Jacques
Pansa. His mother was Therese Barreau, my sister, and he was born in the
village of Sagias."

"What have you to say?" demanded the judge, turning to the accused.

"Three things," replied the latter, unabashed, "this man is either mad,
or he has been suborned to tell lies, or he is simply mistaken."

The old man was struck dumb with astonishment. But his supposed nephew's
start of terror had not been lost upon the judge, also much impressed