efore
the church of Saint-Jean. An assemblage gathered at the porte Vilatte,
which is at the farther end of the Petite-Narette. Monsieur
Lousteau-Prangin and Monsieur Mouilleron, the commissary of police,
the lieutenant of gendarmes, and two of his men, had some difficulty
in reaching the place Saint-Jean through two hedges of people, whose
cries and exclamations could and did prejudice them against the
Parisian; who was, it is needless to say, unjustly accused, although,
it is true, circumstances told against him.

After a conference between Max and the magistrates, Monsieur
Mouilleron sent the commissary of police and a sergeant with one
gendarme to examine what, in the language of the ministry of the
interior, is called "the theatre of the crime." Then Messieurs
Mouilleron and Lousteau-Prangin, accompanied by the lieutenant of
gendarmes crossed over to the Hochon house, which was now guarded by
two gendarmes in the garden and two at the front door. The crowd was
still increasing. The whole town was surging in the Grande rue.

Gritte had rushed terrified to her master, crying out: "Monsieur, we
shall be pillaged! the town is in revolt; Monsieur Maxence Gilet has
been assassinated; he is dying! and they say it is Monsieur Joseph who
has done it!"

Monsieur Hochon dressed quickly, and came downstairs; but seeing the
angry populace, he hastily retreated within the house, and bolted the
door. On questioning Gritte, he learned that his guest had left the
house at daybreak, after walking the floor all night in great
agitation, and had not yet come in. Much alarmed, he went to find
Madame Hochon, who was already awakened by the noise, and to whom he
told the frightful news which, true or false, was causing almost a
riot in Issoudun.

"He is innocent, of course," said Madame Hochon.

"Before his innocence can be proved, the crowd may get in here and
pillage us," said Monsieur Hochon, livid with fear, for he had gold in
his cellar.

"Where is Agathe?"

"Sound asleep."

"Ah! so much the better," said Madame Hochon. "I wish she may sleep on
till the matter is cleared up. Such a shock might kill the poor
child."

But Agathe woke up and came down half-dressed; for the evasive answers
of Gritte, whom she questioned, had disturbed both her head and heart.
She found Madame Hochon, looking very pale, with her eyes full of
tears, at one of the windows of the salon beside her husband.

"Courage, my child. God sends us our