“An hour later I left for Paris, and my father immediately asked that I be granted an audience with the emperor.

“The following day I was received.  His majesty was working in a little reception room when we were introduced.  I described the whole case, and I was just telling about the priest’s visit when a door opened behind the sovereign’s chair and the empress, who supposed he was alone, appeared.  His majesty, Napoleon, consulted her.  As soon as she had heard the matter, she exclaimed:  ’This man must be pardoned.  He must, since he is innocent.’

“Why did this sudden conviction of a religious woman cast a terrible doubt in my mind?

“Until then I had ardently desired a change of sentence.  And now I suddenly felt myself the toy, the dupe of a cunning criminal who had employed the priest and confession as a last means of defence.

“I explained my hesitancy to their majesties.  The emperor remained undecided, urged on one side by his natural kindness and held back on the other by the fear of being deceived by a criminal; but the empress, who was convinced that the priest had obeyed a divine inspiration, kept repeating:  ’Never mind!  It is better to spare a criminal than to kill an innocent man!’ Her advice was taken.  The death sentence was commuted to one of hard labor.

“A few years later I heard that Moiron had again been called to the emperor’s attention on account of his exemplary conduct in the prison at Toulon and was now employed as a servant by the director of the penitentiary.

“For a long time I heard nothing more of this man.  But about two years ago, while I was spending a summer near Lille with my cousin, De Larielle, I was informed one evening, just as we were sitting down to dinner, that a young priest wished to speak to me.

“I had him shown in and he begged me to come to a dying man who desired absolutely to see me.  This had often happened to me in my long career as a magistrate, and, although I had been set aside by the Republic, I was still often called upon in similar circumstances.  I therefore followed the priest, who led me to a miserable little room in a large tenement house.

“There I found a strange-looking man on a bed of straw, sitting with his back against the wall, in order to get his breath.  He was a sort of skeleton, with dark, gleaming eyes.

“As soon as he saw me, he murmured:  ‘Don’t you recognize me?’

“‘No.’

“‘I am Moiron.’

“I felt a shiver run through me, and I asked ‘The schoolmaster?’

“‘Yes.’

“‘How do you happen to be here?’

“’The story is too long.  I haven’t time to tell it.  I was going to die —­and that priest was brought to me—­and as I knew that you were here I sent for you.  It is to you that I wish to confess—­since you were the one who once saved my life.’

“His hands clutched the straw of his bed through the sheet and he continued in a hoarse, forcible and low tone:  ’You see—­I owe you the truth—­I owe it to you—­for it must be told to some one before I leave this earth.