t it a
dire disgrace if they had stolen the value of a pin. The young rakes
greeted the pretty girl's loss with some ribald jokes, that were
immediately drowned under a burst of public indignation. There was some
talk of instant execution--hanging the thief to the nearest lamp-post,
and an investigation was begun, where everyone spoke at once and nobody
would listen to a word of reason. The tall _tricoteuse_, pointing her
finger at an old man, strongly suspected of being an unfrocked monk,
swore it was the "Capuchin" yonder who was the cut-purse. The crowd
believed her without further evidence and raised a shout of "Death!
death!"

The old man so unexpectedly exposed to the public vengeance was standing
very quietly and soberly just in front of the _citoyen_ Brotteaux. He
had all the look, there was no denying it, of a _ci-devant_ cleric. His
aspect was venerable, though the face was changed and drawn by the
terrors the poor man had suffered from the violence of the crowd and the
recollection of the September days that were still vivid in his
imagination. The fear depicted on his features stirred the suspicion of
the populace, which is always ready to believe that only the guilty
dread its judgments, as if the haste and recklessness with which it
pronounces them were not enough to terrify even the most innocent.

Brotteaux had made it a standing rule never to go against the popular
feeling of the moment, above all when it was manifestly illogical and
cruel, "because in that case," he would say, "the voice of the people
was the voice of God." But Brotteaux proved himself untrue to his
principles; he asseverated that the old man, whether he was a Capuchin
or not, could not have robbed the _citoyenne_, having never gone near
her for one moment.

The crowd drew its own conclusion,--the individual who spoke up for the
thief was of course his accomplice, and stern measures were proposed to
deal with the two malefactors, and when Gamelin offered to guarantee
Brotteaux' honesty, the wisest heads suggested sending _him_ along with
the two others to the Sectional headquarters.

But the pretty girl gave a cry of delight; she had found her purse
again. The statement was received with a storm of hisses, and she was
threatened with a public whipping,--like a Nun.

"Sir," said the ex-monk, addressing Brotteaux, "I thank you for having
spoken in my defence. My name is of no concern, but I had better tell
you what it is; I am call