ot recognize his judges. She could, then, draw him down
to herself, make him dependent upon the breath of her lips; and she
forgot the iron alternatives that confront one's destiny here, and let
herself go like a child that knows nothing of death.

The trial before the court of assizes was set for the sixteenth of
October. At noon of the tenth, Clarissa requested an interview with
Monsieur Jausion. Conducted before the magistrate, she declared she
knew about the whole matter, and wished to confess everything. In a
voice trembling with excitement. Monsieur Jausion summoned his clerks.

"I came into the room and saw the knife glisten," Clarissa confessed.
"I took refuge in the alcove, Bastide Grammont hurried after me,
embraced and kissed me. He confided to me that Fualdes must die, for
the old devil had destroyed his happiness and made life worthless to
him. Bastide was intoxicated, as it were, with enthusiasm, and when I
raised objections, he stopped my mouth with kisses once more, yes, he
kissed me so hard that I could not offer any resistance. Then he had me
take an oath, whereupon he left me and I heard a groaning, I heard a
terrible cry; little Madeleine Bancal, who was lying in bed, raised
herself suddenly and wept. Then I lost consciousness, and when I
regained it I found myself in the street."

She recounted this story in a mechanically measured tone; her voice had
a metallic ring, her eyes were veiled and half closed, her little hands
hung heavy at her side, and when she ceased she gazed before her with a
pleased smile.

"You had consorted with Bastide Grammont before that, then?" questioned
the Magistrate.

"Yes, we met in the forest. In the neighborhood of La Morne there is an
old well in the field; there, also, we used to meet frequently;
particularly at night and by moonlight. Once Bastide took me on his
horse and we rode at a furious pace to the gorge at Guignol. I asked,
'What are you fleeing from, Bastide?' for I was cold with fright; and
he whispered: 'From myself and from the world.' Otherwise, however, he
was always gentle. I have never known a better man."

More and more silvery rang her voice, and finally she spoke like one
transported or asleep. Her statement was read aloud to her; she affixed
her signature calmly and without hesitation, whereupon Monsieur Jausion
stated to her that she was free.

In the chateau she was met by a hostile silence. The few domestics who
remained whispered insol