nced and bold! But I soon found
that she was the craziest of women, and simply hungered for new
emotions!"

Janzen was at last emerging from his wonted frigidity and mysteriousness.
His cheeks were quite flushed. In all probability he had suffered from
his rupture with the woman whom he had once called 'the Queen of the
Anarchists,' and whose fortune and extensive circle of acquaintance had
seemed to him such powerful weapons of propaganda.

"You know," said he, when he had calmed down, "it was the police who had
her house pillaged and turned into a pigstye. Yes, in view of Salvat's
trial, which is now near at hand, the idea was to damn Anarchism beyond
possibility of even the faintest sympathy on the part of the
_bourgeois_."

"Yes, she told me so," replied Guillaume, who had become attentive. "But
I scarcely credit the story. If Bergaz had merely acted under such
influence as you suggest, he would have been arrested with the others,
just as Raphanel was taken with those whom he betrayed. Besides, I know
something of Bergaz; he's a freebooter." Guillaume made a sorrowful
gesture, and then in a saddened voice continued: "Oh, I can understand
all claims and all legitimate reprisals. But theft, cynical theft for the
purpose of profit and enjoyment, is beyond me! It lowers my hope of a
better and more equitable form of society. Yes, that burglary at the
Princess's house has greatly distressed me."

An enigmatical smile, sharp like a knife, again played over Janzen's
lips. "Oh! it's a matter of heredity with you!" said he. "The centuries
of education and belief that lie behind you compel you to protest. All
the same, however, when people won't make restoration, things must be
taken from them. What worries me is that Bergaz should have sold himself
just now. The public prosecutor will use that farcical burglary as a
crushing argument when he asks the jury for Salvat's head."

Such was Janzen's hatred of the police that he stubbornly clung to his
version of the affair. Perhaps, too, he had quarrelled with Bergaz, with
whom he had at one time freely associated.

Guillaume, who understood that all discussion would be useless, contented
himself with replying: "Ah! yes, Salvat! Everything is against that
unhappy fellow, he is certain to be condemned. But you can't know, my
friends, what a passion that affair of his puts me into. All my ideas of
truth and justice revolt at the thought of it. He's a madman certainly;
but the