me; and with a wild shout for them to come on, I
rushed forward. My foot, however, caught the angle of the iron bedstead,
and I fell headlong and senseless to the ground.

Some interval elapsed; and when next I felt consciousness, I was lying
full length on my bed, the cell lit up by two candles on the table,
beside which sat two men, their heads bent eagerly over a mass of papers
before them. One was an old and venerable-looking man, his white hair
and long queue so bespeaking him; he wore a loose cloth cloak that
covered his entire figure, but I could see that a brass scabbard of a
sword projected beneath it; on the chair beside him, too, there lay a
foraging-cap. The other, much younger, though still not in youth, was a
thin, pale, careworn man; his forehead was high and strongly marked;
and there was an intensity and determination in his brow and about the
angles of his mouth most striking; he was dressed in black, with deep
ruffles at his wrist.

"It is quite clear. General," said he, in a low and measured voice,
where each word fell with perfect distinctness--"it is quite clear that
they can press a conviction here if they will. The allegations are so
contrived as rather to indicate complicity than actually establish it.
The defence in such cases has to combat shadows, not overturn facts;
and, believe me, a procureur-general, aided by a police, is a dexterous
enemy."

"I have no doubt of it," said the general, rapidly; "but what are the
weak points? where is he most assailable?"

"Everywhere," said the other. "To begin: the secret information of the
outbreak between Lord Whitworth and the Consul; the frequent meetings
with the Marquis de Beauvais; the false report to the Chef de Police;
the concealment of this abbe--By the bye, I am not quite clear about
that part of the case; why have not the prosecution brought this Abbe,
forward? It is plain they have his evidence, and can produce him if
they will; and I see no other name in the act of accusation than our old
acquaintance, Mehee de la Touche--"

"The villain!" cried the general, with a stamp of indignation, while a
convulsive spasm seemed to shake every fibre of his frame.

"Mehee de la Touche!" said I to myself; "I have heard that name before."
And like a lightning flash it crossed my mind that such was the name of
the man Marie de Meudon charged me with knowing.

"But still," said the general, "what can they make of all these? That of
indiscretion, fo