Towards one in the afternoon the post-chaise of Doctor Bianchon, who was accompanied by Brigaut, stopped before the house, and Madame Frappier went at once to summon Monsieur Martener and the surgeon in charge of the hospital.  Thus the gossip of the town received confirmation.  The Rogrons were declared to have ill-used their cousin deliberately, and to have come near killing her.  Vinet heard the news while attending to his business in the law courts; he left everything and hurried to the Rogrons.  Rogron and his sister had just finished breakfast.  Sylvie was reluctant to tell her brother of her discomfiture of the night before; but he pressed her with questions, to which she would make no answer than, “That’s not your business.”  She went and came from the kitchen to the dining-room on pretence of preparing the breakfast, but chiefly to avoid discussion.  She was alone when Vinet entered.

“You know what’s happened?” said the lawyer.

“No,” said Sylvie.

“You will be arrested on a criminal charge,” replied Vinet, “from the way things are now going about Pierrette.”

“A criminal charge!” cried Rogron, who had come into the room.  “Why?  What for?”

“First of all,” said the lawyer, looking at Sylvie, “explain to me without concealment and as if you stood before God, what happened in this house last night—­they talk of amputating Pierrette’s hand.”

Sylvie turned livid and shuddered.

“Then there is some truth in it?” said Vinet.

Mademoiselle Rogron related the scene, trying to excuse herself; but, prodded with questions, she acknowledged the facts of the horrible struggle.

“If you have only injured her fingers you will be taken before the police court for a misdemeanor; but if they cut off her hand you may be tried at the Assizes for a worse offence.  The Tiphaines will do their best to get you there.”

Sylvie, more dead than alive, confessed her jealousy, and, what was harder to do, confessed also that her suspicions were unfounded.

“Heavens, what a case this will make!” cried the lawyer.  “You and your brother may be ruined by it; you will be abandoned by most people whether you win or lose.  If you lose, you will have to leave Provins.”

“Oh, my dear Monsieur Vinet, you who are such a great lawyer,” said Rogron, terrified, “advise us! save us!”

The crafty Vinet worked the terror of the two imbeciles to its utmost, declaring that Madame and Mademoiselle de Chargeboeuf might be unwilling to enter their house again.  To be abandoned by women of their rank would be a terrible condemnation.  At length, after an hour of adroit manoeuvring, it was agreed that Vinet must have some powerful motive in taking the case, that would impress the minds of all Provins and explain his efforts on behalf of the Rogrons.  This motive they determined should be Rogron’s marriage to Mademoiselle de Chargeboeuf; it should