“M. de Boiscoran?”

“Yes.  He is innocent!  I know it; I am sure of it; and I can prove it.  And, if he will not tell, I will tell,—­tell every thing!”

M. Daubigeon and M. Galpin were utterly astounded.

“Explain yourself,” they both said in the same breath.

But the vagrant shook his head, pointing at the gendarmes; and, as a man who is quite cognizant of all the formalities of the law, he replied,—­

“But it is a great secret; and, when one confesses, one does not like anybody else to hear it but the priest.  Besides, I should like my deposition to be taken down in writing.”

Upon a sign made by M. Galpin, the gendarmes withdrew; and Mechinet took his seat at a table, with a blank sheet of paper before him.

“Now we can talk,” said Trumence:  “that’s the way I like it.  I was not thinking myself of running away.  I was pretty well off in jail; winter is coming, I had not a cent; and I knew, that, if I were retaken, I should fare rather badly.  But M. Jacques de Boiscoran had a notion to spend a night outside.”

“Mind what you are saying,” M. Galpin broke in severely.  “You cannot play with the law, and go off unpunished.”

“May I die if I do not tell the truth!” cried Trumence.  “M.  Jacques has spent a whole night out of jail.”

The magistrate trembled.

“What a story that is!” he said again.

“I have my proof,” replied Trumence coldly, “and you shall hear.  Well, as he wanted to leave, M. Jacques came to me, and we agreed, that in consideration of a certain sum of money which he has paid me, and of which you have seen just now all that is left, I should make a hole in the wall, and that I should run off altogether, while he was to come back when he had done his business.”

“And the jailer?” asked M. Daubigeon.

Like a true peasant of his promise, Trumence was far too cunning to expose Blangin unnecessarily.  Assuming, therefore, the whole responsibility of the evasion, he replied,—­

“The jailer saw nothing.  We had no use for him.  Was not I, so to say, under-jailer?  Had not I been charged by you yourself, M. Galpin, with keeping watch over M. Jacques?  Was it not I who opened and locked his door, who took him to the parlor, and brought him back again?”

That was the exact truth.

“Go on!” said M. Galpin harshly.

“Well,” said Trumence, “every thing was done as agreed upon.  One evening, about nine o’clock, I make my hole in the wall, and here we are, M. Jacques and I, on the ramparts.  There he slips a package of banknotes into my hand, and tells me to run for it, while he goes about his business.  I thought he was innocent then; but you see I should not exactly have gone through the fire for him as yet.  I said to myself, that perhaps he was making fun of me, and that, once on the wing, he would not be such a fool as to go back into the cage.  This made me curious, as he was going off, to see which way he was going,—­and there I was, following him close upon his heels!”