A woman’s garments were brought in, and Derues was ordered to put them on, which he did readily, affecting much amusement.  As he was assisted to disguise himself, he laughed, stroked his chin and assumed mincing airs, carrying effrontery so far as to ask for a mirror.

“I should like to see if it is becoming,” he said; “perhaps I might make some conquests.”

The lawyer returned:  Derues was made to pass before him, to sit at a table, sign a paper, in fact to repeat everything it was imagined he might have said or done in the lawyer’s office.  This second attempt at identification succeeded no better than the first.  The lawyer hesitated; then, understanding all the importance of his deposition, he refused to swear to anything, and finally declared that this was not the person who had come to him at Lyons.

“I am sorry, sir,” said Derues, as they removed him, “that you should have been troubled by having to witness this absurd comedy.  Do not blame me for it; but ask Heaven to enlighten those who do not fear to accuse me.  As for me, knowing that my innocence will shortly be made clear, I pardon them henceforth.”

Although justice at this period was generally expeditious, and the lives of accused persons were by no means safe-guarded as they now are, it was impossible to condemn Derues in the absence of any positive proofs of guilt.  He knew this, and waited patiently in his prison for the moment when he should triumph over the capital accusation which weighed against him.  The storm no longer thundered over his head, the most terrible trials were passed, the examinations became less frequent, and there were no more surprises to dread.  The lamentations of Monsieur de Lamotte went to the hearts of the magistrates, but his certainty could not establish theirs, and they pitied, but could not avenge him.  In certain minds a sort of reaction favourable to the prisoner began to set in.  Among the dupes of Derues’ seeming piety, many who at first held their peace under these crushing accusations returned to their former opinion.  The bigots and devotees, all who made a profession of kneeling in the churches, of publicly crossing themselves and dipping their fingers in the holy water, and who lived on cant and repetitions of “Amen” and “Alleluia,” talked of persecution, of martyrdom, until Derues nearly became a saint destined by the Almighty to find canonisation in a dungeon.  Hence arose quarrels and arguments; and this abortive trial, this unproved accusation, kept the public imagination in a constant ferment.

To the greater part of those who talk of the “Supreme Being,” and who expect His intervention in human affairs, “Providence” is only a word, solemn and sonorous, a sort of theatrical machine which sets all right in the end, and which they glorify with a few banalities proceeding from the lips, but not from the heart.  It is true that this unknown and mysterious Cause which we call “God”