which he
was charged.

Fortunately his duties were on that day so numerous and so troublesome,
that he had no time to think. He had to provide for the recovery and
the transportation of the remains of the two unfortunate victims of the
fire; he had to receive the mother of one, and the widow and children of
the other, and to listen to their complaints, and try to console them
by promising the former a small pension, and the latter some help in the
education of their children. Then he had to give directions to have the
wounded men brought home; and, after that, he had gone out in search
of a house for Count Claudieuse and his wife, which had given him much
trouble. Finally, a large part of the afternoon had been taken up by an
angry discussion with Dr. Seignebos. The doctor, in the name of outraged
society, as he called it, and in the name of justice and humanity,
demanded the immediate arrest of Cocoleu, that wretch whose unconscious
statement formed the basis of the accusation. He demanded with a furious
oath that the epileptic idiot should be sent to the hospital, and kept
there so as to be professionally examined by experts. The mayor had
for some time refused to grant the request, which seemed to him
unreasonable; but he doctor had talked so loud and insisted so strongly,
that at last he had sent two gendarmes to Brechy with orders to bring
back Cocoleu.

They had returned several hours later with empty hands. The idiot had
disappeared; and no one in the whole district had been able to give any
information as to this whereabouts.

"And you think that is natural?" exclaimed Dr. Seignebos, whose eyes
were glaring at the mayor from under his spectacles. "To me that looks
like an absolute proof that a plot has been hatched to ruin M. de
Boiscoran."

"But can't you be quiet?" M. Seneschal said angrily. "Do you think
Cocoleu is lost? He will turn up again."

The doctor had left him without insisting any longer; but before going
home, he had dropped in at his club, and there, in the presence of
twenty people he had declared that he had positive proof of a plot
formed against M. de Boiscoran, whom the Monarchists had never forgiven
for having left them; and that the Jesuits were certainly mixed up with
the business.

This interference was more injurious than useful to Jacques; and the
consequences were soon seen. That same evening, when M. Galpin crossed
the New-Market Place, he was wantonly insulted. Very naturally