“Yes, my dear Monsieur, I was.  A policeman conducted me through the Palais de Justice, before the magistrate, a lean man, who asked me my name and address.  I replied that I lived in Versailles, and that I had company to dinner; he interrupted me, ‘You know the prisoner?’ pointing to the man with the muffler, ‘Speak up.’  But he questioned me so threateningly that I became disconcerted, for I felt that he was passing judgment upon me.  Then in my embarrassment the words did not come quickly.  I finished, moreover, by telling him that I knew the man without knowing him; then he became furious:  ’What’s that you say?  You know a man without knowing him!  At least explain yourself!’ I was all of a tremble, and said that I knew he was a Spaniard, but the man replied that he was not a Spaniard.  ’Well, well,’ said the Judge.  ‘Denial, always denial; it is your way.’  ’I tell you that my name is Rigaud, and that I was born in Josey, in Josas; they are not Spaniards that are born in Josey, in Josas.’  ’Always contradiction; very good, very good!’ And the Judge addressed himself to me.  ‘Then this man is a Spaniard?’ ’Yes, Monsieur the Judge, so I have been told.’  ‘Do you know anything more about him?’ ’I know he made purchases at my brother’s pharmacy in the Rue Montorgueil.’  ’At a pharmacy! and he bought, did he not, some chlorate of potash, azotite of potash, and sulphur powder; in a word, materials to manufacture explosives.’  ’I don’t know what he bought.  I only know that he did not pay, that’s all.’  ‘Parbleau!  Anarchists never pay—­’ ’I did not need to pay.  I never bought chlorate of potash in the Rue Montorgueil,’ cried the man; but the Judge exclaimed, louder still, ’Yes, it is your audacious habit of lying, but I will sift this matter to the bottom; sift it, do you understand.  And now why is that muffler on in the month of May?’ ’I have a cold,’ replied the other.  ‘Haven’t I the right to have a cold?’ ’That is very suspicious, very suspicious.  I am going to send for the druggist in the Rue Montorgueil!’”

“Then they sent for your brother?”

“Yes; I wanted to leave, tried to explain to the Judge that my wife was expecting me in Versailles, that I had already missed the five o’clock train, that I had company to dinner, and must bring home a pie.  ’You shall not go,’ replied the Judge, ’and cease to annoy me with your dinner and your pie; I will need you for a second examination.  The affair is of the gravest sort.’  I tried to resist, but they led me away somewhat roughly, and thrust me again into the little apartment with the criminals.  After waiting an hour I was brought up for another examination.  My brother was there.  But we could not exchange two words, for he entered the courtroom by one door and I by another.  All this was arranged perfectly.  The man with the muffler was again brought out.  The Judge addressed my brother.  ‘Do you recognize the prisoner?’ ‘No.’  ‘Ah! you see he does not know me!’ ‘Be silent!’ said the