ut of him
somehow."

"You shall be confronted, I promise you."

The prisoner seemed to be amazed.

"Are you going to send for Chevassat?" he asked.

"No. You will be sent home, to be tried there."

A flash of joy shone in the eyes of the wretch. He knew the voyage would
not be a pleasant one; but the prospect of being tried in France was
as good as an escape from capital punishment to his mind. Besides, he
delighted in advance in the idea of seeing Chevassat in court, seated by
his side as a fellow-prisoner.

"Then," he asked again, "they will send me home?"

"On the first national vessel that leaves Saigon."

The magistrate went and sat down at the table where the clerk was
writing, and rapidly ran his eye over the long examination, seeing if
anything had been overlooked. When he had done, he said,--

"Now give me as accurate a description of Justin Chevassat as you can."

Crochard passed his hand repeatedly over his forehead; and then, his
eyes staring at empty space, and his neck stretched out, as if he saw a
phantom which he had suddenly called up, he said,--

"Chevassat is a man of my age; but he does not look more than twenty
seven or eight. That is what made me hesitate at first, when I met him
on the boulevard. He is a handsome fellow, very well made, and wears
all his beard. He looks clever, with soft eyes; and his face inspires
confidence at once."

"Ah! that is Maxime all over," broke in Daniel.

And, suddenly remembering something, he called Lefloch. The sailor
started, and almost mechanically assumed the respectful position of a
sailor standing before his officer.

"Lieutenant?" he said.

"Since I have been sick, they have brought part of my baggage here; have
they not?"

"Yes, lieutenant, all of it."

"Well. Go and look for a big red book with silver clasps. You have no
doubt seen me look at it often."

"Yes, lieutenant; and I know where it is."

And he immediately opened one of the trunks that were piled up in a
corner of the room, and took from it a photograph album, which, upon a
sign from Daniel, he handed to the lawyer.

"Will you please," said Daniel at the same time, "ask the prisoner, if,
among the sixty or seventy portraits in that book, he knows any one?"

The album was handed to Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet, who turned over
leaf after leaf, till all of a sudden, and almost beside himself, he
cried out,--

"Here he is, Justin Chevassat! Oh! that's he, no doubt about it