nce?"

"I reproach you for nothing."

"A horrible crime has been committed; and my duty compelled me to do all
that lies in the power of man to discover the culprit."

"Yes; and the man who is accused of the crime is your friend, and only
yesterday you spoke of his friendship as your best chance of success in
life."

"Sir?"

"Are you surprised to find me so well informed? Ah, you do not know
that nothing escapes the idle curiosity of a village. I know that your
dearest hope was to become a member of M. de Boiscoran's family, and
that you counted upon him to back you in your efforts to obtain the hand
of one of his cousins."

"I do not deny that."

"Unfortunately, you have been tempted by the prestige you might gain
in a great and famous trial. You have laid aside all prudence; and your
projects are forgotten. Whether M. de Boiscoran is innocent or guilty,
his family will never forgive you your interference. If he is guilty,
they will blame you for having handed him over to justice: if he is
innocent, they will blame you even more for having suspected him."

M. Galpin hung his head as if to conceal his trouble. Then he asked,--

"And what would you do in my place?"

"I would withdraw from the case, although it is rather late."

"If I did so, I should risk my career."

"Even that would be better for you than to engage in an affair in which
you cannot feel the calmness nor the impartiality which are the first
and indispensable virtues of an upright magistrate."

The latter was becoming impatient. He exclaimed,--

"Sir, do you think I am a man to be turned aside from my duty by
considerations of friendship or personal interest?"

"I said nothing of the kind."

"Did you not see just now how I carried on the inquiry? Did you see me
start when Cocoleu first mentioned M. de Boiscoran's name? If he had
denounced any one else, I should probably have let the matter rest
there. But precisely because M. de Boiscoran is a friend of mine,
and because I have great expectations from him, I have insisted and
persisted, and I do so still."

The commonwealth attorney shrugged his shoulders.

"That is it exactly," he said. "Because M. de Boiscoran is a friend of
yours, you are afraid of being accused of weakness; and you are going
to be hard, pitiless, unjust even, against him. Because you had great
expectations from him, you will insist upon finding him guilty. And you
call yourself impartial?"

M. Galpin assumed a