s resembled that of a dog, even in the capers and cries with
which he greeted her whenever he saw her. Often, when she went out, he
accompanied her, running and frolicking around her just like a dog. He
was also very fond of little girls, and seemed to resent it when he was
kept from them: for people were afraid his nervous attacks might affect
the children.

With time he had also become capable of performing some simple service.
He could be intrusted with certain messages: he could water the flowers,
summon a servant, or even carry a letter to the post-office at Brechy.
His progress in this respect was so marked, that some of the more
cunning peasants began to suspect that Cocoleu was not so "innocent,"
after all, as he looked, and that he was cleverly playing the fool in
order to enjoy life easily.

"We have him at last," cried several voices at once. "Here he is; here
he is!"

The crowd made way promptly; and almost immediately a young man
appeared, led and pushed forward by several persons. Cocoleu's clothes,
all in disorder, showed clearly that he had offered a stout resistance.
He was a youth of about eighteen years, very tall, quite beardless,
excessively thin, and so loosely jointed, that he looked like a
hunchback. A mass of reddish hair came down his low, retreating
forehead. His small eyes, his enormous mouth bristling with sharp teeth,
his broad flat nose, and his immense ears, gave to his face a strange
idiotic expression, and to his whole appearance a most painful brutish
air.

"What must we do with him?" asked the peasants of the mayor.

"We must take him before the magistrate, my friends," replied M.
Seneschal,--"down there in that cottage, where you have carried the
count."

"And we'll make him talk," threatened his captors. "You hear! Go on,
quick!"

IV.

M. Galpin and the doctor had both considered it a point of honor who
should show the most perfect indifference; and thus they had betrayed
by no sign their curiosity to know what was going on out doors. Dr.
Seignebos was on the point of resuming the operation; and, as coolly as
if he had been in his own rooms at home, he was washing the sponge which
he had just used, and wiping his instruments. The magistrate, on the
other hand, was standing in the centre of the room, his arms crossed,
his eyes fixed upon the infinite, apparently. It may be he was thinking
of his star which had at last brought him that famous criminal case for
which he