an straightened himself, and with a marvellously conceited
air, which set all the peasants a-laughing, he replied,--

"I was out that night on some little private business of my own. I was
on the other side of the chateau of Boiscoran. Somebody was waiting for
me, and I was behind time: so I cut right across the marsh. I knew the
rains of the last days would have filled all the ditches; but, when a
man is out on such important business as mine was, he can always find
his way"--

"Spare us those tedious details," said the magistrate coldly. The
handsome fellow looked surprised, rather than offended, by the
interruption, and then went on,--

"As your Honor desires. Well, it was about eight o'clock, or a little
more, and it was growing dark, when I reached the Seille swamps. They
were overflowing; and the water was two inches above the stones of
the canal. I asked myself how I should get across without spoiling my
clothes, when I saw M. de Boiscoran coming towards me from the other
side."

"Are you quite sure it was he?"

"Why, I should think so! I talked to him. But stop, he was not afraid of
getting wet. Without much ado, he rolled up his trousers, stuffed them
into the tops of his tall boots, and went right through. Just then he
saw me, and seemed to be surprised. I was as much so as he was. 'Why,
is it you, sir?' I said. He replied 'Yes: I have to see somebody at
Brechy.' That was very probably so; still I said again, 'But you
have chosen a queer way.' He laughed. 'I did not know the swamps were
overflowed,' he answered, 'and I thought I would shoot some snipes.' As
he said this, he showed me his gun. At that moment I had nothing to say;
but now, when I think it over, it looks queer to me."

M. Galpin had written down the statement as fast as it was given. Then
he asked,--

"How was M. de Boiscoran dressed?"

"Stop. He had grayish trousers on, a shooting-jacket of brown velveteen,
and a broad-brimmed panama hat."

The count and the countess looked distressed and almost overcome; nor
did the mayor and his friend seem to be less troubled. One circumstance
in Ribot's evidence seemed to have struck them with peculiar force,--the
fact that he had seen M. de Boiscoran push his trousers inside his
boots.

"You can go," said M. Galpin to the young man. "Let another witness come
in."

The next one was an old man of bad reputation, who lived alone in an old
hut two miles from Valpinson. He was called Father Gaudry