unish him? If against herself, ought
she not rather to overwhelm him with contempt? But to invoke the help,
of strangers to expiate this offence; to lay bare the troubles of her
life, to unveil the sanctuary of the nuptial couch--in short, to summon
the whole world to behold this fatal scandal, was not that what in her
imprudent anger she had really done? She repented bitterly of her haste,
she sought to avert the consequences, and notwithstanding the night and
the bad weather, she hurried at once to Pierre's dwelling, hoping at
all costs to withdraw her denunciation. He was not there: he had at once
taken a horse and started for Rieux. Her accusation was already on its
way to the magistrates!

At break of day the house where Martin Guerre lodged when at Rieux was
surrounded by soldiers. He came forward with confidence and inquired
what was wanted. On hearing the accusation, he changed colour slightly,
then collected himself, and made no resistance. When he came before the
judge, Bertrande's petition was read to him, declaring him to be "an
impostor, who falsely, audaciously, and treacherously had deceived
her by taking the name and assuming the person of Martin Guerre," and
demanding that he should be required to entreat pardon from God, the
king, and herself.

The prisoner listened calmly to the charge, and met it courageously,
only evincing profound surprise at such a step being taken by a wife
who had lived with him for two years since his return, and who only
now thought of disputing the rights he had so long enjoyed. As he was
ignorant both of Bertrande's suspicions and their confirmation, and also
of the jealousy which had inspired her accusation, his astonishment
was perfectly natural, and did not at all appear to be assumed. He
attributed the whole charge to the machinations of his uncle, Pierre
Guerre; an old man, he said, who, being governed entirely by avarice and
the desire of revenge, now disputed his name and rights, in order the
better to deprive him of his property, which might be worth from sixteen
to eighteen hundred livres. In order to attain his end, this wicked man
had not hesitated to pervert his wife's mind, and at the risk of her
own dishonour had instigated this calumnious charge--a horrible and
unheard-of thing in the mouth of a lawful wife. "Ah! I do not blame
her," he cried; "she must suffer more than I do, if she really
entertains doubts such as these; but I deplore her readiness to listen