nt to
chance. On Christmas-eve the order excited no surprise, as it was
customary on the eve of high festivals to bring all the prisoners of
the Conciergerie before the parliament, who sometimes, out of respect
to the day, liberated those criminals who had been imprisoned for
trifling offences.

Above all, as it was necessary to make the blind man understand the
almost sacred importance of the judgment with which Heaven had
invested him, a solemn oath was administered by the president of the
assembly. The old man took the oath in a truthful, earnest manner,
which left no doubt of his sincerity, and the trial commenced.
Eighteen prisoners were brought up, and answered the questions
proposed to them, but the old man never moved; and they, on their
part, on perceiving the unknown man, evinced no sign of alarm. At
last the nineteenth prisoner was introduced. Who shall paint his
horror and stupefaction at the sight of Gervais! His features grew
contracted, his hair rose up, and a sudden faintness overpowered him,
so that the turnkeys were obliged to lead him to a seat. When he
recovered a little, his involuntary and convulsive movements seemed
to show the poignant remorse of a guilty and tortured soul, or
perhaps the horrible regret of not having committed a second crime,
and finished his work.

The presidents and judges anxiously awaited the result. At the first
words that Martel uttered, in reply to the president's questions, the
blind man, who, ignorant of his presence, had hitherto remained quiet
and immovable, suddenly bent forward, listening intently; then
shrinking back with horror and fear, cried out: 'It is he!--it is the
voice that I heard on the heights of Argenteuil!'

The jailer led away Martel more dead than alive, obeying in this the
president's order, who in a loud tone had desired him to bring out
another prisoner. But this command was accompanied by a sign which
the jailer understood, and some minutes after, he again introduced
Martel, who was interrogated under a false name. Fresh questions
elicited fresh replies; but the blind man, shaking his head with an
air of incredulity, immediately cried out: 'No, no; it is all a
feint; that is the voice which conversed with me on the heights of
Argenteuil.'

At last the horrible mystery was cleared up. The wretched, criminal,
trembling, despairing, stammered out a confession, which was now
almost needless, since the magistrates were fully convinced of the
tr