producing enlightenment, only plunged them into still greater obscurity.
Out of thirty witnesses heard, more than three-quarters agreed in
identifying as Martin Guerre the man who claimed his name. Never
was greater perplexity caused by more extraordinary appearances. The
remarkable resemblance upset all reasoning: some recognised him as
Arnauld du Thill, and others asserted the exact contrary. He could
hardly understand Basque, some said, though born in Biscay, was that
astonishing, seeing he was only three when he left the country? He could
neither wrestle nor fence well, but having no occasion to practise these
exercises he might well have forgotten them. The shoemaker--who made
his shoes afore-time, thought he took another measure, but he might have
made a mistake before or be mistaken now. The prisoner further defended
himself by recapitulating the circumstances of his first meeting with
Bertrande, on his return, the thousand and one little details he had
mentioned which he only could have known, also the letters in his
possession, all of which could only be explained by the assumption
that he was the veritable Martin Guerre. Was it likely that he would be
wounded over the left eye and leg as the missing man was supposed to
be? Was it likely that the old servant, that the four sisters, his uncle
Pierre, many persons to whom he had related facts known only to himself,
that all the community in short, would have recognised him? And even
the very intrigue suspected by Bertrande, which had aroused her jealous
anger, this very intrigue, if it really existed, was it not another
proof of the verity of his claim, since the person concerned, as
interested and as penetrating as the legitimate wife; had also accepted
him as her former lover? Surely here was a mass of evidence sufficient
to cast light on the case. Imagine an impostor arriving for the first
time in a place where all the inhabitants are unknown to him, and
attempting to personate a man who had dwelt there, who would have
connections of all kinds, who would have played his part in a thousand
different scenes, who would have confided his secrets, his opinions, to
relations, friends, acquaintances, to all sorts of people; who had also
a wife--that is to say, a person under whose eyes nearly his whole life
would be passed, a person would study him perpetually, with whom he
would be continually conversing on every sort of subject. Could such an
impostor sustain his i