n his part as an officer he did think so. He
_was_ an officer; not"--and here he cast his eye on the turnkeys and
jailers in the court"--"the _canaille_." And, in effect, the prisoner
was before the court; that justified him.

After this the judges ceased to ask the Duc de Mortemart's son any
further questions, but went on with other matters. One of the
_canaille_, a jailer, was put on the witness stand and questioned
briefly. "Speak, fellow," said the president in a totally different
tone from that which he had hitherto used to the duke's son, "have you
examined the prisoner--is he branded?"

"He is, my lord, on his shoulder; an undoubted _galerien_."

"Enough! Stand down."

"Prisoner," addressing St. Georges, "what have you to say?"

"Nothing. Do your worst."

"No justification of your quitting the galleys?"

"Nothing that you would accept as such. Yet this I will say: I did not
escape of my own attempt; the galley I was in was sunk by an English
admiral off their coast; almost all were lost. I was saved and taken
back to England."

"So! That may make a difference. What was the galley's name?"

"L'Idole."

Here the judge on the president's right hand leaned over to him and
said: "This may be the truth. I had a nephew, an officer, on board
L'Idole--she was sunk."

"Allowing such to be the case, prisoner, how comes it you are back in
France?"

"I desired to return, and took the first opportunity."

"Ay, he did," suddenly roared out a voice in the court. "And ask him
how he returned, my lord; ask him that!"

In an instant all eyes were turned to the place whence the sound came,
and the presiding judge became scarlet in the face at any one having
the presumption to so bawl at him in the court. "Exempts," he cried,
"find out the ruffian who dares to outrage the king's justice by
bellowing before us thus. Find him out, I say, and bring him before
us!"

It required, however, very little "finding out," since he who had so
cried was the man whom the _procureur_ du Roi had spoken of as having
abandoned his ship at La Hogue and fled to Paris, and was now present
as a prisoner in the court to be tried for his offence. Nor was there
much need to hustle and drag him forward, since he came willingly
enough--he thought he saw here an immunity from punishment--if
punishment be deserved--a chance of escape by the evidence he could
give.

"Who is the fellow?" asked De Rennie, when, partly by the man's own
willing