became particularly intelligent, with the good taste and native
refinement which his acquaintances did not have, he was nicknamed "the
Bourgeois," and he was never called otherwise. He had become remarkably
clever in the trade of a carpenter, which he had taken up. He was also
said to be a socialist fanatic, a believer in communistic and nihilistic
doctrines, a great reader of bloodthirsty novels, an influential
political agitator and a clever orator in the public meetings of workmen
or of farmers.

His lawyer had pleaded insanity.

Indeed, how could one imagine that this workman should kill his best
customers, rich and generous (as he knew), who in two years had enabled
him to earn three thousand francs (his books showed it)? Only one
explanation could be offered: insanity, the fixed idea of the unclassed
individual who reeks vengeance on two bourgeois, on all the bourgeoisie,
and the lawyer made a clever allusion to this nickname of "The
Bourgeois," given throughout the neighborhood to this poor wretch. He
exclaimed:

"Is this irony not enough to unbalance the mind of this poor wretch, who
has neither father nor mother? He is an ardent republican. What am I
saying? He even belongs to the same political party, the members of
which, formerly shot or exiled by the government, it now welcomes with
open arms this party to which arson is a principle and murder an ordinary
occurrence.

"These gloomy doctrines, now applauded in public meetings, have ruined
this man. He has heard republicans--even women, yes, women--ask for the
blood of M. Gambetta, the blood of M. Grevy; his weakened mind gave way;
he wanted blood, the blood of a bourgeois!

"It is not he whom you should condemn, gentlemen; it is the Commune!"

Everywhere could be heard murmurs of assent. Everyone felt that the
lawyer had won his case. The prosecuting attorney did not oppose him.

Then the presiding judge asked the accused the customary question:

"Prisoner, is there anything that you wish to add to your defense?"

The man stood up.

He was a short, flaxen blond, with calm, clear, gray eyes. A strong,
frank, sonorous voice came from this frail-looking boy and, at the first
words, quickly changed the opinion which had been formed of him.

He spoke loud in a declamatory manner, but so distinctly that every word
could be understood in the farthest corners of the big hall:

"Your honor, as I do not wish to go to an insane asylum, and as I even
prefe