And yet those who watch the glances which are exchanged between M. de Boiscoran and Count Claudieuse cannot help asking themselves, if there is not something else between these two men, besides what the trial has made known.  We cannot explain to ourselves these singular answers given to the president’s questions, nor does any one understand the silence observed by M. de Boiscoran’s counsel.  Do they abandon their client?  No; for we see them go up to him, shake hands with him, and lavish upon him every sign of friendly consolation and encouragement.

We may even be permitted to say, that, to all appearances, the president himself and the prosecuting attorney were, for a moment, perfectly overcome with surprise.  At all events, we thought so at the moment.

But the president continues,—­

P.—­I have but just been asking the accused, count, whether there was any ground of enmity between you.

C.C.—­(In a steadily declining voice.) I know no other ground except our lawsuit about a little stream of water.

P.—­Has not the accused once threatened to fire at you?

C.C.—­Yes; but I did not think he was in earnest, and I never resented the matter.

P. Do you persist in your declaration?

C.C.—­I do.  And once more, upon my oath, I declare solemnly that I recognized, in such a manner as to prevent any possible mistake, M. Jacques Boiscoran.

It was evidently time that Count Claudieuse should end his evidence.  He begins to totter; his eyes close; his head rolls from side to side; and two ushers have to come to his assistance to enable him, with the help of his own servant, to leave the room.

Is the Countess Claudieuse to be called next?

It was thought so; but it was not so.  The countess being kept by the bedside of one of her daughters, who is most dangerously ill, will not be called at all; and the clerk of the court is ordered to read her deposition.

Although her description of the terrible event is very graphic, it contains no new facts, and will remain without influence on the proceedings.

The next witness is Ribot.

This is a fine handsome countryman, a regular village cock, with a pink-and-blue cravat around his neck, and a huge gold chain dangling from his watch-pocket.  He seems to be very proud of his appearance and looks around with an air of the most perfect self-satisfaction.

In the same way he relates his meeting with the accused in a tone of great importance.  He knows every thing and explains every thing.  With a little encouragement he would, no doubt, declare that the accused had confided to him all his plans of incendiarism and murder.  His answers are almost all received with great hilarity, which bring down upon the audience another and very severe reprimand from the president.

The witness Gaudry, who succeeds him, is a small, wretched-looking man, with a false and timid eye, who exhausts himself in bows and scrapes.  Quite different from Ribot, he seems to have forgotten every thing.  It is evident he is afraid of committing himself.  He praises the count; but he does not speak the less well of M. de Boiscoran.  He assures the court of his profound respect for them all,—­for the ladies and gentlemen present, for everybody, in fine.