told me you were up here. We have just caught Trumence."

"That man who had escaped from jail?"

"Yes. We were about to carry him back there, when he told us that he
had a secret to reveal, a very important, urgent secret, concerning the
condemned prisoner, Boiscoran."

"Trumence?"

"Yes. Then we carried him to the court-house, and I came for orders."

"Run and say that I am coming to see him!" cried M. Daubigeon. "Make
haste! I am coming after you."

But the gendarme, a model of obedience, had not waited so long: he was
already down stairs.

"I must leave you, Galpin," said M. Daubigeon, very much excited. "You
heard what the man said. We must know what that means at once."

But the magistrate was not less excited.

"You permit me to accompany you, I hope?" he asked.

He had a right to do so.

"Certainly," replied the commonwealth attorney. "But make haste!"

The recommendation was not needed. M. Galpin had already put on his
boots. He now slipped his overcoat over his home dress, as he was; and
off they went.

Mechinet followed the two gentlemen as they hastened down the street;
and the good people of Sauveterre, always on the lookout, were not a
little scandalized at seeing their well-known magistrate, M. Galpin, in
his home costume,--he who generally was most scrupulously precise in his
dress.

Standing on their door-steps, they said to each other,--

"Something very important must have happened. Just look at these
gentlemen!"

The fact was, they were walking so fast, that people might well wonder;
and they did not say a word all the way.

But, ere they reached the court-house, they were forced to stop; for
some four or five hundred people were filling the court, crowding on the
steps, and actually pressing against the doors.

Immediately all became silent; hats were raised; the crowd parted; and a
passage was opened.

On the porch appeared the priest from Brechy, and two other priests.

Behind them came attendants from the hospital, who bore a bier covered
with black cloth; and beneath the cloth the outlines of a human body
could be seen.

The women began to cry; and those who had room enough knelt down.

"Poor countess!" murmured one of them. "Here is her husband dead, and
they say one of her daughters is dying at home."

But M. Daubigeon, the magistrate, and Mechinet were too preoccupied with
their own interests to think of stopping for more reliable news. The way
was open: they wen