I should tell you that it was your duty to
have hastened to Montaignac and informed the authorities. But what you
say is untrue. You did not leave Lacheneur, you accompanied him."

"No, Monsieur, no!"

"And what if I could prove this fact beyond all question?"

"Impossible, Monsieur, since such was not the case."

By the malicious satisfaction that lighted M. de Sairmeuse's face, the
abbe knew that this wicked judge had some terrible weapon in his hands,
and that Baron d'Escorval was about to be overwhelmed by one of those
fatal coincidences which explain, although they do not justify, judicial
errors.

At a sign from the counsel for the prosecution, the Marquis de
Courtornieu left his seat and came forward to the platform.

"I must request you, Monsieur le Marquis," said the duke, "to have the
goodness to read to the commission the deposition written and signed by
your daughter."

This scene must have been prepared in advance for the audience. M. de
Courtornieu cleaned his glasses, drew from his pocket a paper which he
unfolded, and amid a death-like silence, he read:

"I, Blanche de Courtornieu, do declare upon oath that, on the evening
of the fourth of February, between ten and eleven o'clock, on the public
road leading from Sairmeuse to Montaignac, I was assailed by a crowd of
armed brigands. While they were deliberating as to whether they should
take possession of my person and pillage my carriage, I overheard one
of these men say to another, speaking of me: 'She must get out, must she
not, Monsieur d'Escorval?' I believe that the brigand who uttered these
words was a peasant named Chanlouineau, but I dare not assert it on
oath."

A terrible cry, followed by inarticulate moans, interrupted the marquis.

The suffering which Maurice endured was too great for his strength and
his reason. He was about to spring forward and cry:

"It was I who addressed those words to Chanlouineau. I alone am guilty;
my father is innocent!"

But fortunately the abbe had the presence of mind to hold him back, and
place his hand over the poor youth's lips.

But the priest would not have been able to restrain Maurice without the
aid of the retired army officers, who were standing beside him.

Divining all, perhaps, they surrounded Maurice, took him up, and carried
him from the room by main force, in spite of his violent resistance.

All this occupied scarcely ten seconds.

"What is the cause of this disturbance?" inquir