never thought before that she might be dead."

It must have been the influence of this dismal room, for we could only
see the darkest side of everything.

"And, oh," cried Mattia, starting up and throwing out his arms, "if
Mother Barberin is dead and that awful Barberin is alive and we go
there, he'll take our cow and keep it himself."

It was late in the afternoon when the door was thrown open and an old
gentleman with white hair came into our prison.

"Now, you rogues, answer this gentleman," said the jailer, who
accompanied him.

"That's all right, that's all right," said the gentleman, who was the
public prosecutor, "I'll question this one." With his finger he
indicated me. "You take charge of the other; I'll question him later."

I was alone with the prosecutor. Fixing me with his eye, he told me that
I was accused of having stolen a cow. I told him that we bought the
animal at the fair at Ussel, and I named the veterinarian who had
assisted us in the purchase.

"That will be verified," he replied. "And now what made you buy that
cow?"

I told him that I was offering it as a token of affection to my foster
mother.

"Her name?" he demanded.

"Madame Barberin of Chavanon," I replied.

"The wife of a mason who met with a serious accident in Paris a few
years ago. I know her. That also will be verified."

"Oh!..."

I became very confused. Seeing my embarrassment, the prosecutor pressed
me with questions, and I had to tell him that if he made inquiries of
Madame Barberin our cow would not be a surprise after all, and to make
it a surprise had been our chief object. But in the midst of my
confusion I felt a great satisfaction to know that Mother Barberin was
still alive, and in the course of the questions that were put to me I
learned that Barberin had gone back to Paris some time ago. This
delighted me.

Then came the question that Mattia had feared.

"But how did you get all the money to buy the cow?"

I explained that from Paris to Varses and from Varses to Ussel we had
collected this sum, sou by sou.

"But what were you doing in Varses?" he asked.

Then I was forced to tell him that I had been in a mine accident.

"Which of you two is Remi?" he asked, in a softened voice.

"I am, sir," I replied.

"To prove that, you tell me how the catastrophe occurred. I read the
whole account of it in the papers. You cannot deceive me. I can tell if
you really are Remi. Now, be careful."

I could see