e recognized," continued the vagrant, "and so
M. Jacques had been running ever so fast, keeping close to the wall, and
choosing the narrowest lanes. Fortunately, I have a pair of very good
legs. He goes through Sauveterre like a race-horse; and, when he reaches
Mautrec Street, he begins to ring the bell at a large gate."

"At Count Claudieuse's house!"

"I know now what house it was; but I did not know then. Well, he rings.
A servant comes and opens. He speaks to her, and immediately she invites
him in, and that so eagerly, that she forgets to close the gate again."

M. Daubigeon stopped him by a gesture.

"Wait!" he said.

And, taking up a blank form, he filled it up, rang the bell, and said
to an usher of the court who had hastened in, giving him the printed
paper,--

"I want this to be taken immediately. Make haste; and not a word!"

Then Trumence was directed to go on; and he said,--

"There I was, standing in the middle of the street, feeling like a fool.
I thought I had nothing left me but to go and use my legs: that was
safest for me. But that wretched, half-open gate attracted me. I said to
myself, 'If you go in, and they catch you, they will think you have
come to steal, and you'll have to pay for it.' That was true; but the
temptation was too strong for me. My curiosity broke my heart, so to
say, and, 'Come what may, I'll risk it,' I said. I push the huge gate
just wide enough to let me in, and here I am in a large garden. It was
pitch dark; but, quite at the bottom of the garden, three windows in the
lower story of the house were lighted up. I had ventured too far now
to go back. So I went on, creeping along stealthily, until I reached a
tree, against which I pressed closely, about the length of my arm from
one of the windows, which belonged to a beautiful parlor. I look--and I
see whom? M. de Boiscoran. As there were no curtains to the windows,
I could see as well as I can see you. His face looked terrible. I was
asking myself for whom he could be waiting there, when I saw him hiding
behind the open door of the room, like a man who is lying in wait for
somebody, with evil intentions. This troubled me very much; but the next
moment a lady came in. Instantly M. Jacques shuts the door behind her;
the lady turns round, sees him, and wants to run, uttering at the same
time a loud cry. That lady was the Countess Claudieuse!"

He looked as if he wished to pause to watch the effect of his
revelation. But M