ext day, sir, Claudine managed to pacify me, and extorted a
promise of secrecy. The child was scarcely ill at all; but he retained
an enormous scar on his arm."

"Was Madame Gerdy informed of what took place?"

"I do not think so, sir. But I would rather say that I do not know."

"What! you do not know?"

"Yes, sir, I swear it. You see my ignorance comes from what happened
afterwards."

"What happened, then?"

The sailor hesitated.

"That, sir, concerns only myself, and--"

"My friend," interrupted the magistrate, "you are an honest man, I
believe; in fact, I am sure of it. But once in your life, influenced by
a wicked woman, you did wrong, you became an accomplice in a very guilty
action. Repair that error by speaking truly now. All that is said here,
and which is not directly connected with the crime, will remain secret;
even I will forget it immediately. Fear nothing, therefore; and, if you
experience some humiliation, think that it is your punishment for the
past."

"Alas, sir," answered the sailor, "I have been already greatly punished;
and it is a long time since my troubles began. Money, wickedly acquired,
brings no good. On arriving home, I bought the wretched meadow for much
more than it was worth; and the day I walked over it, feeling that is
was actually mine, closed my happiness. Claudine was a coquette; but she
had a great many other vices. When she realised how much money we had
these vices showed themselves, just like a fire, smouldering at the
bottom of the hold, bursts forth when you open the hatches. From
slightly greedy as she had been, she became a regular glutton. In our
house there was feasting without end. Whenever I went to sea, she would
entertain the worst women in the place; and there was nothing too good
or too expensive for them. She would get so drunk that she would have to
be put to bed. Well, one night, when she thought me at Rouen, I returned
unexpectedly. I entered, and found her with a man. And such a man, sir!
A miserable looking wretch, ugly, dirty, stinking; shunned by everyone;
in a word the bailiff's clerk. I should have killed him, like the vermin
that he was; it was my right, but he was such a pitiful object. I took
him by the neck and pitched him out of the window, without opening it!
It didn't kill him. Then I fell upon my wife, and beat her until she
couldn't stir."

Lerouge spoke in a hoarse voice, every now and then thrusting his fists
into his eyes.

"I pard