Judge, and he continued talking excitedly:  ’You know the man?’ ‘Certainly not.’  ‘Think well; you ought to know him.’  ’I tell you, no.’  ’I tell you, yes, and that he bought some chlorate of potash from you.’  ‘No!’ ‘Ah!’ cried the Judge, in a passion.  ’Take care, weigh well your words; you are treading on dangerous ground.’  ‘I!’ exclaimed my brother.  ‘Yes, for there is your brother; you recognize him, I think.’  ‘Yes, I recognize him.’  ’That is fortunate.  Well, your brother there says that man owes you money for having bought at your establishment—­I specify—­materials to manufacture explosives.’  ‘But you did not say that.’  ‘No, I wish to re-establish the facts.’  But that Judge would give no one a chance to speak.  ’Don’t interrupt me.  Who is conducting this examination, you or I?’ ‘You, Monsieur the Judge?’ ’Well, at all events, you said the prisoner owed your brother some money.’  ‘That I acknowledge.’  ’But who told you all this?’ asked my brother.  ‘Your son, Joseph!’ ‘Joseph!’ ’He followed the man for the sake of the money, which he owed you for the drugs.’  ‘I understand nothing of all this,’ said my brother; ’Neither do I,’ said the man with the muffler; ‘Neither do I,’ I repeated in my turn; ‘Neither do I any more,’ cried the Judge; ’Or rather, yes, there is something that I understand very well; we have captured a gang, all these men understand one another, and side with one another; they are a band of Anarchists!’ ‘That is putting it too strong,’ I protested to the Judge, ’I, a landowner, an Anarchist!  Can a man be an Anarchist when he owns a house on the Boulevard de la Reine at Versailles and a cottage at Houlgate, Calvados?  These are facts.’”

“That was well answered.”

“But this Judge would not listen to anything.  He said to my brother, ‘Where does your son live?’ ‘With me in the Rue Montorgueil.’  ’Well, he must be sent for; and in the meanwhile, these two brothers are to be placed in separate cells.’  Then, losing patience, I cried that this was infamy!  But I felt myself seized and dragged through the corridors and locked in a little box four feet square.  In there I passed three hours.”

“Didn’t they find your nephew Joseph?”

“No, it was not that.  It was the Judge.  He went off to his dinner, and took his time about it!  Finally, at midnight, they had another examination.  Behold all four of us before the Judge!  The man with the muffler, myself, my brother and Joseph.  The Judge began, addressing my nephew:  ‘This man is indeed your father?’ ‘Yes.’  ’This man is indeed your uncle?’ ‘Yes.’  ’And that man is indeed the Spaniard who purchased some chlorate of potash from you?’ ‘No.’  ‘What!  No?’ ‘There,’ exclaimed the fellow with the muffler.  ‘You can see now that these men do not know me.’  ‘Yes, yes,’ answered the Judge, not at all disconcerted.  ’Denial again!  Let’s see, young man, did you not say to your uncle——­’ ’Yes, Monsieur the Judge, that is true.’  ‘Ah! the truth!  Here is the truth!’