ansiere, also, had arrived. But he kept strictly in retirement
in his room at the Hotel de la Poste, where M. Galpin every day spent
several hours in close conference with him.

"It seems," said Mechinet in confidence to M. Folgat,--"it seems they
are preparing an overwhelming charge."

The day after, Dionysia opened "The Sauveterre Independent," and found
in it an announcement of the cases set down for each day,--

MONDAY..... Fraudulent bankruptcy, defalcation, forgery.
TUESDAY.... Murder, theft.
WEDNESDAY.. Infanticide, domestic theft.
THURSDAY... Incendiarism, and attempted assassination
(case of M. de Boiscoran).

This was, therefore, the great day on which the good people of
Sauveterre expected to enjoy the most delightful emotions. Hence there
was an immense pressure brought to bear upon all the principal members
of the court to obtain tickets of admission. People who, the night
before, had refused to speak to M. Galpin, would stop him the next day
in the street, and beg him to give them a ticket, not for themselves,
but for "their lady." Finally, the unheard-of fact became known,
that tickets were openly sold for money! One family had actually the
incomprehensible courage to write to the Marquis de Boiscoran for
three tickets, promising, in return, "by their attitude in court" to
contribute to the acquittal of the accused.

In the midst of all these rumors, the city was suddenly startled by
a list of subscriptions in behalf of the families of the unfortunate
firemen who had perished in the fire at Valpinson.

Who had started this paper? M. Seneschal tried in vain to discover the
hand that had struck this blow. The secret of this treacherous trick was
well kept. But it was a most atrocious trick to revive thus, on the eve
of the trial, such mournful memories and such bitter hatred.

"That man Galpin had a hand in it," said Dr. Seignebos, grinding his
teeth. "And to think that he may, after all, be triumphant! Ah, why did
not Goudar commence his experiment a little sooner?"

For Goudar, while assuring everybody of certain success, asked for time.
To disarm the mistrust of an idiot like Cocoleu was not the work of a
day or a week. He declared, that, if he should be overhasty, he would
most assuredly ruin every thing.

Otherwise, nothing new occurred.

Count Claudieuse was getting rather better.

The agent in Jersey had telegraphed that he was on Suky's track; that he
would cer