. The poisoning of Sauvresy explained all
Hector's conduct, his position, his fears, his promises, his lies,
his hate, his recklessness, his marriage, his flight. Still she
tried not to defend him, but to share the odium of his crimes.

"I knew it," she stammered, in a voice broken by sobs, "I knew it
all."

The old justice was in despair.

"How you love him, poor child!" murmured he.

This mournful exclamation restored to Laurence all her energy; she
made an effort and rose, her eyes glittering with indignation:

"I love him!" cried she. "I! Ah, I can explain my conduct to you,
my old friend, for you are worthy of hearing it. Yes, I did love
him, it is true--loved him to the forgetfulness of duty, to
self-abandonment. But one day he showed himself to me as he was;
I judged him, and my love did not survive my contempt. I was
ignorant of Sauvresy's horrible death. Hector confessed to me that
his life and honor were in Bertha's hands--and that she loved him.
I left him free to abandon me, to marry, thus sacrificing more than
my life to what I thought was his happiness; yet I was not deceived.
When I fled with him I once more sacrificed myself, when I saw that
it was impossible to conceal my shame. I wanted to die. I lived,
and wrote an infamous letter to my mother, and yielded to Hector's
prayers, because he pleaded with me in the name of my--of our
child!"

M. Lecoq, impatient at the loss of time, tried to say something;
but Laurence would not listen to him.

"But what matter?" she continued. "I loved him, followed him, and
am his! Constancy at all hazards is the only excuse for a fault like
mine. I will do my duty. I cannot be innocent when Hector has
committed a crime; I desire to suffer half the punishment."

She spoke with such remarkable animation that the detective
despaired of calming her, when two whistles in the street struck
his ear. Tremorel was returning and there was not a moment to be
lost. He suddenly seized Laurence by the arm.

"You will tell all this to the judges, Madame," said he, sternly.
"My orders are only for M. de Tremorel. Here is the warrant to
arrest him."

He took out the warrant and laid it upon the table. Laurence, by
the force of her will, had become almost calm.

"You will let me speak five minutes with the Count de Tremorel,
will you not?" she asked.

M. Lecoq was delighted; he had looked for this request, and
expected it.

"Five minutes? Yes," he replied. "But abandon