Behind them the jurymen sit down, looking grave and solemn.

Everybody rises, everybody strains his eyes to see, and stands on tiptoe.  Some persons in the back rows even get upon their chairs.

The president has ordered the prisoner to be brought in.

He appears.

He is dressed in black, and with great elegance.  It is noticed that he wears in his buttonhole the ribbon of the Legion of Honor.

He looks pale; but his eye is clear and open, full of confidence, yet not defiant.  His carriage is proud, though melancholy.

He has hardly taken his seat when a gentleman passes over three rows of chairs, and, in spite of the officers of the court, succeeds in shaking hands with him.  It is Dr. Seignebos.

The president orders the sheriff to proclaim silence; and, after having reminded the audience that all expressions of approbation or disapprobation are strictly prohibited, he turns to the accused, and asks him,—­

“Tell me your first names, your family name, your age, your profession, and your domicile.”

The accused replies,—­

“Louis Trivulce Jacques de Boiscoran, twenty-seven years, land-owner, residing at Boiscoran, district of Sauveterre.”

“Sit down, and listen to the charges which are brought against you.”

The clerk, M. Mechinet, thereupon reads the charges, which, in their terrible simplicity, cause a shudder to pass through the whole audience.

We shall not repeat them here, as all the incidents which they relate are well known to our readers.

[Examination of the Accused.]

PRESIDENT.—­Accused, rise and answer clearly.  During the preliminary investigation, you have refused to answer several questions.  Now the matter must be cleared up.  And I am bound to tell you it is to your interest to answer frankly.

ACCUSED.—­No one desires more than I do that the truth be known.  I am ready to answer.

P.—­Why were you so reticent in your first examination?

A.—­I though it important for my interests to answer only in court.

P.—­You have heard of what crimes you are accused?

A.—­I am innocent.  And, first of all, I beg you will allow me to say one thing.  The crime committed at Valpinson is an atrocious, cowardly crime; but it is at the same time an absurdly stupid crime, more like the unconscious act of a madman.  Now, I have always been looked upon as not lacking exactly in intelligence.

P.—­That is a discussion.

A.—­Still, Mr. President—­

P.—­Hereafter you shall have full liberty to state your argument.  For the present you must be content to answer the questions which I shall ask you.

A.—­I submit.

P.—­Were you not soon to be married?

At this question all eyes are turned towards Miss Chandore, who blushes till she is as red as a poppy, but does not cast down her eyes.