have done
with the business!

From the very beginning of the trial, Mother Toulouche had been
disagreeably struck by the inquisitorial glances and pointed questions
of the Public Prosecutor throughout the proceedings. Now, in her turn,
the old storekeeper was questioning her audience, trying hard to find
out what would be the probable attitude of the magistrate, when she
herself should be summoned to the witness-box.

"Witness!... Mother Toulouche!"

Fandor smiled as he listened to the loquacious old storekeeper,
for he knew how much faith was to be put in her veracity and
respectability!... It was pretty clear that she was every whit as guilty
as the handcuffed individuals now in the dock. As she had not been
arrested, it simply meant that, in Juve's opinion, this was not an
opportune moment to put a stopper on the nefarious activities of this
bad old woman.

At this precise moment, Fandor recognised Juve. He was leaving a group
of barristers and officials, who had been hugely entertained by his
stupid answers and remarks. Yes, it was Juve, so admirably made up and
disguised that Fandor had difficulty in recognising him. Here was
Cranajour on the scene! He approached Mother Toulouche and stood
there--a Cranajour who was the picture of gaping imbecility!

"You, too?" cried Mother Toulouche, looking askance at him. "Are you one
of the witnesses?"

Cranajour's reply was a comical grimace. He scratched his beard,
remarking finally:

"I have forgotten! I don't know!"

His audience burst into roars of laughter: Fandor laughed loudest of
all!

One of Maitre Henri Robart's juniors whispered in Fandor's ear, with an
air of giving the journalist a piece of information worth having.

"A simple-minded soul, that!--a kind of idiot! You can guess that, at
the preliminary inquiry, they soon found that out!... He may be
heard--or he may not?"

Fandor nodded. He found it difficult not to laugh.

"Thanks many for the information," he stammered. The young barrister did
not understand the ironical tone of our journalist.

Mother Toulouche was envying Cranajour.

"You're in luck, you are--to be too silly to go and talk to those
inquisitive fellows in there! Eh?"

Conversations stopped. The little low door, giving entrance to the
court, had just opened: an usher announced:

"The case is resumed!... Witnesses this way!... The woman Toulouche?...
It is your turn!..."

They jostled and pushed their way through the narr