the public highway. They begged to be
allowed to furnish proof of the truth of their assertions; they invoked
the testimony of the soldiers who had arrested them.

M. d'Escorval, whose case had been separated from the others, was not
summoned to the desk. He would be interrogated last.

"Now the counsel for the defence will be heard," said the duke; "but
make haste; lose no time! It is already twelve o'clock."

Then began a shameful, revolting, and unheard-of scene. The duke
interrupted the lawyers every other moment, bidding them be silent,
questioning them, or jeering at them.

"It seems incredible," said he, "that anyone can think of defending such
wretches!"

Or again:

"Silence! You should blush with shame for having constituted yourself
the defender of such rascals!"

But the lawyers persevered even while they realized the utter
uselessness of their efforts. But what could they do under such
circumstances? The defence of these twenty-nine prisoners lasted only
one hour and a half.

Before the last word was fairly uttered, the Duc de Sairmeuse gave a
sigh of relief, and in a tone which betrayed his delight, said:

"Prisoner Escorval, stand up."

Thus called upon, the baron rose, calm and dignified. Terrible as his
sufferings must have been, there was no trace of it upon his noble face.

He had even repressed the smile of disdain which the duke's paltry
affection in not giving him the title which belonged to him, brought to
his lips.

But Chanlouineau sprang up at the same time, trembling with indignation,
his face all aglow with anger.

"Remain seated," ordered the duke, "or you shall be removed from the
court-room."

Chanlouineau, nevertheless, declared that he would speak; that he had
some remarks to add to the plea made by the defending counsel.

Upon a sign from the duke, two gendarmes approached and placed their
hands upon his shoulders. He allowed them to force him back into his
seat though he could easily have crushed them with one pressure of his
brawny arm.

An observer would have supposed that he was furious; secretly, he was
delighted. The aim he had had in view was now attained. In the glance he
cast upon the abbe, the latter could read:

"Whatever happens, watch over Maurice; restrain him. Do not allow him to
defeat my plans by any outbreak."

This caution was not unnecessary. Maurice was terribly agitated; he
could not see, he felt that he was suffocating, that he was losing hi