“That will do, gentlemen, let us go; we can come to explanations later,” said Joseph, who had recovered his self-possession.

“Give way, friends!” said the lieutenant to the crowd; “He is arrested, and we are taking him to the Palais.”

“Respect the law, friends!” said Monsieur Mouilleron.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to see him guillotined?” said one of the gendarmes to an angry group.

“Yes, yes, they shall guillotine him!” shouted one madman.

“They are going to guillotine him!” cried the women.

By the time they reached the end of the Grande-Narette the crowd were shouting:  “They are taking him to the guillotine!” “They found the knife upon him!” “That’s what Parisians are!” “He carries crime on his face!”

Though all Joseph’s blood had flown to his head, he walked the distance from the place Saint-Jean to the Palais with remarkable calmness and self-possession.  Nevertheless, he was very glad to find himself in the private office of Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin.

“I need hardly tell you, gentlemen, that I am innocent,” said Joseph, addressing Monsieur Mouilleron, Monsieur Lousteau-Prangin, and the clerk.  “I can only beg you to assist me in proving my innocence.  I know nothing of this affair.”

When the judge had stated all the suspicious facts which were against him, ending with Max’s declaration, Joseph was astounded.

“But,” said he, “it was past five o’clock when I left the house.  I went up the Grande rue, and at half-past five I was standing looking up at the facade of the parish church of Saint-Cyr.  I talked there with the sexton, who came to ring the angelus, and asked him for information about the building, which seems to me fantastic and incomplete.  Then I passed through the vegetable-market, where some women had already assembled.  From there, crossing the place Misere, I went as far as the mill of Landrole by the Pont aux Anes, where I watched the ducks for five or six minutes, and the miller’s men must have noticed me.  I saw the women going to wash; they are probably still there.  They made a little fun of me, and declared that I was not handsome; I told them it was not all gold that glittered.  From there, I followed the long avenue to Tivoli, where I talked with the gardener.  Pray have these facts verified; and do not even arrest me, for I give you my word of honor that I will stay quietly in this office till you are convinced of my innocence.”

These sensible words, said without the least hesitation, and with the ease of a man who is perfectly sure of his facts, made some impression on the magistrates.

“Yes, we must find all these persons and summon them,” said Monsieur Mouilleron; “but it is more than the affair of a day.  Make up your mind, therefore, in your own interests, to be imprisoned in the Palais.”

“Provided I can write to my mother, so as to reassure her, poor woman —­oh! you can read the letter,” he added.