quaint!"

Etienne Rambert interrupted the sneering speech.

"I am quite sure, sir, that there are plenty of people here who will
understand and endorse what I did."

The declaration was so pointedly personal that the judge took it up.

"And I am quite sure that people of principle will understand me when I
have shown them your conduct as it really was. You have a predilection
for heroics; it will not be without interest to bring things to the
point. Your attitude throughout this affair has been this:--it is not
for me to anticipate the issue of the enquiry which will be held some
day into the murder of Mme. de Langrune, but I must recall the fact that
the moment you believed your son was the murderer, the moment you
discovered the blood-stained towel which furnished the circumstantial
evidence of his guilt, you--the man of honour, mind you,--never thought
of handing over the culprit to the police who were actually in the
precincts of the chateau, but only thought of securing his escape, and
helping him to get away! You even accompanied him in his flight, and so
became in a sense his accomplice. I suppose you do not deny that?"

Etienne Rambert shook with emotion and answered in ringing tones.

"If you are of opinion, sir, that that was an act of complicity on my
part, I will not only not deny it, I will proclaim it from the
housetops! I became the accomplice of a murderer by inducing him to run
away, did I? You forget, sir, that at the moment when I first believed
my son was the culprit--I was not his accomplice then, I suppose?--there
was a bond between him and me already that I could not possibly break:
he was my son! Sir, the duty of a father--and I attach the very loftiest
meaning to the word 'duty'--can never entail his giving up his son!"

A fresh murmur of sympathy through the court annoyed the judge, who
shrugged his shoulders.

"Let us leave empty rhetoric alone," he said. "You have plenty of fine
phrases with which to defend your action; that, indeed, is your concern,
as the jury will doubtless appreciate; but I think it will be more
advantageous to clear up the facts a little--not more advantageous to
you, perhaps, but that is what I am here to do. So will you please tell
me whether your son confessed to having murdered Mme. de Langrune,
either during that night when you persuaded him to run away, or
afterwards? Yes or no, please."

"I can't answer, sir. My son was mad! I will not believe my son was