ent."

"There are proofs, and justice has them by this time."

"Heavens! Is it really possible?" cried the count, who was beside
himself.

"Ah, sir!" said Mademoiselle d'Arlange bitterly, "you are like the
magistrate; you believed in the impossible. You are his father, and
you suspected him! You do not know him, then. You were abandoning him,
without trying to defend him. Ah, I did not hesitate one moment!"

One is easily induced to believe true that which one is anxiously
longing for. M. de Commarin was not difficult to convince. Without
thinking, without discussion, he put faith in Claire's assertions. He
shared her convictions, without asking himself whether it were wise or
prudent to do so.

Yes, he had been overcome by the magistrate's certitude, he had told
himself that what was most unlikely was true; and he had bowed his head.
One word from a young girl had upset this conviction. Albert innocent!
The thought descended upon his heart like heavenly dew.

Claire appeared to him like a bearer of happiness and hope.

During the last three days, he had discovered how great was his
affection for Albert. He had loved him tenderly, for he had never been
able to discard him, in spite of his frightful suspicions as to his
paternity.

For three days, the knowledge of the crime imputed to his unhappy son,
the thought of the punishment which awaited him, had nearly killed the
father. And after all he was innocent!

No more shame, no more scandalous trial, no more stains upon the
escutcheon; the name of Commarin would not be heard at the assizes.

"But, then, mademoiselle," asked the count, "are they going to release
him?"

"Alas! sir, I demanded that they should at once set him at liberty. It
is just, is it not, since he is not guilty? But the magistrate replied
that it was not possible; that he was not the master; that Albert's fate
depended on many others. It was then that I resolved to come to you for
aid."

"Can I then do something?"

"I at least hope so. I am only a poor girl, very ignorant; and I know
no one in the world. I do not know what can be done to get him released
from prison. There ought, however, to be some means for obtaining
justice. Will you not try all that can be done, sir, you, who are his
father?"

"Yes," replied M. de Commarin quickly, "yes, and without losing a
minute."

Since Albert's arrest, the count had been plunged in a dull stupor. In
his profound grief, seeing only ruin and