had ardently longed many a year.

Count Claudieuse, however, was very far from sharing their reserve. He
was tossing about on his bed; and as soon as the mayor and his friend
reappeared, looking quite upset, he exclaimed,--

"What does that uproar mean?"

And, when he had heard of the calamity, he added,--

"Great God! And I was complaining of my losses. Two men killed! That is
a real misfortune. Poor men! to die because they were so brave,--Bolton
hardly thirty years old; Guillebault, a father of a family, who leaves
five children, and not a cent!"

The countess, coming in at that moment, heard his last words.

"As long as we have a mouthful of bread," she said in a voice full of
deep emotion, "neither Bolton's mother, nor Guillebault's children,
shall ever know what want is."

She could not say another word; for at that moment the peasants crowded
into the room, pushing the prisoner before them.

"Where is the magistrate?" they asked. "Here is a witness!"

"What, Cocoleu!" exclaimed the count.

"Yes, he knows something: he said so himself. We want him to tell it to
the magistrate. We want the incendiary to be caught."

Dr. Seignebos had frowned fiercely. He execrated Cocoleu, whose sight
recalled to him that great failure which the good people of Sauveterre
were not likely to forget soon.

"You do not really mean to examine him?" he asked, turning to M. Galpin.

"Why not?" answered the magistrate dryly.

"Because he is an imbecile, sir, an idiot. Because he cannot possibly
understand your questions, or the importance of his answers."

"He may give us a valuable hint, nevertheless."

"He? A man who has no sense? You don't really think so. The law cannot
attach any importance to the evidence of a fool."

M. Galpin betrayed his impatience by an increase of stiffness, as he
replied,--

"I know my duty, sir."

"And I," replied the physician,--"I also know what I have to do. You
have summoned me to assist you in this investigation. I obey; and I
declare officially, that the mental condition of this unfortunate man
makes his evidence utterly worthless. I appeal to the commonwealth
attorney."

He had hoped for a word of encouragement from M. Daubigeon; but nothing
came. Then he went on,--

"Take care, sir, or you may get yourself into trouble. What would you do
if this poor fellow should make a formal charge against any one? Could
you attach any weight to his word?"

The peasants were listening wi