The magistrate had risen, pale and deeply excited, but evidently meditating on what was to be done next.  The commonwealth attorney asked him in an undertone what he was going to do; and the lawyer replied,—­

“Prosecute!”

“What?”

“Can I do otherwise in my position?  God is my witness that I tried my best, by urging this poor idiot, to prove the absurdity of his accusation.  But the result has disappointed me.”

“And now?”

“Now I can no longer hesitate.  There have been ten witnesses present at the examination.  My honor is at stake.  I must establish either the guilt or the innocence of the man whom Cocoleu accuses.”  Immediately, walking up to the count’s bed, he asked,—­

“Will you have the kindness, Count Claudieuse, to tell me what your relations are to M. de Boiscoran?”

Surprise and indignation caused the wounded man to blush deeply.

“Can it be possible, sir, that you believe the words of that idiot?”

“I believe nothing,” answered the magistrate.  “My duty is to unravel the truth; and I mean to do it.”

“The doctor has told you what the state of Cocoleu’s mind is?”

“Count, I beg you will answer my question.”

Count Claudieuse looked angry; but he replied promptly,—­

“My relations with M. de Boiscoran are neither good nor bad.  We have none.”

“It is reported, I have heard it myself, that you are on bad terms.”

“On no terms at all.  I never leave Valpinson, and M. de Boiscoran spends nine months of the year in Paris.  He has never called at my house, and I have never been in his.”

“You have been overheard speaking of him in unmeasured terms.”

“That may be.  We are neither of the same age, nor have we the same tastes or the same opinions.  He is young:  I am old.  He likes Paris and the great world:  I am fond of solitude and hunting.  I am a Legitimist:  he used to be an Orleanist, and now he is a Republican.  I believe that the descendant of our old kings alone can save the country; and he is convinced that the happiness of France is possible only under a Republic.  But two men may be enemies, and yet esteem each other.  M. de Boiscoran is an honorable man; he has done his duty bravely in the war, he has fought well, and has been wounded.”

M. Galpin noted down these answers with extreme care.  When he had done so, he continued,—­

“The question is not one of political opinions only.  You have had personal difficulties with M. de Boiscoran.”

“Of no importance.”

“I beg pardon:  you have been at law.”

“Our estates adjoin each other.  There is an unlucky brook between us, which is a source of constant trouble to the neighbors.”

M. Galpin shook his head, and added,—­

“These are not the only difficulties you have had with each other.  Everybody in the country knows that you have had violent altercations.”