t there?" objected M. Seneschal. "Suppose he
did not see anybody there? Suppose it was only a pretext to satisfy
Ribot's impertinent curiosity?"

"Well, then, he would only have to tell the truth in court. And
look! Here's an important proof which almost by itself relieves M. de
Boiscoran. Would he not have loaded his gun with a ball, if he should
ever have really thought of murdering the count? But it was loaded with
nothing but small-shot."

"And he would never have missed me at ten yards' distance," said the
count.

Suddenly somebody was heard knocking furiously at the door.

"Come in!" cried M. Seneschal.

The door opened and three peasants appeared, looking bewildered, but
evidently well pleased.

"We have just," said one of them, "found something curious."

"What?" asked M. Galpin.

"It looks very much like a case; but Pitard says it is the paper of a
cartridge."

Count Claudieuse raised himself on his pillows, and said eagerly,--

"Let me see! I have during these last days fired several times quite
near to the house to frighten the birds away that eat my fruit. I want
to see if the paper is mine."

The peasant gave it to him.

It was a very thin lead form, such as contain the cartridges used
in American breech-loading guns. What was singular was that it was
blackened by burnt powder; but it had not been torn, nor had it blazed
up in the discharge. It was so perfectly uninjured, that one could read
the embossed letters of the name of the manufacturer, Clebb.

"That cartridge never belonged to me," said the count.

But as he uttered these words he turned deadly pale, so pale, that his
wife came close to him, and looked at him with a glance full of terrible
anguish.

"Well?"

He made no reply.

But at that moment such silence was so eloquent, that the countess felt
sickened, and whispered to him,--

"Then Cocoleu was right, after all!"

Not one feature of this dramatic scene had escaped M. Galpin's eye.
He had seen on every face signs of a kind of terror; still he made no
remark. He took the metal case from the count's hands, knowing that it
might become an important piece of evidence; and for nearly a minute he
turned it round and round, looking at it from all sides, and examining
it in the light with the utmost attention.

Then turning to the peasants, who were standing respectfully and
uncovered close by the door, he asked them,--

"Where did you find this cartridge, my friends?"

"