“He remained there sixteen months, and conducted himself well enough to be incorporated in the First Regiment of Marines, one battalion of which was to be sent to Senegambia.  He had, however, by no means given up his bad ways; for he was very soon after condemned to ten years’ penal servitude for having broken into a house by night as a robber.”

The chief surgeon, who had for some time given unmistakable signs of impatience, now rose all of a sudden, and said,—­

“Pardon me, if I interrupt you, sir; but can you rely upon the veracity of your witnesses?”

“Why should I doubt them?”

“Because it seems to me very improbable that a cunning fellow, such as this Crochard seems to be, should have denounced himself.”

“But he has not denounced himself.”

“Ah?”

“He has often mentioned this condemnation; but he has always attributed it to acts of violence against a superior; On that point he has never varied in his statements.”

“Then how on earth did you learn”—­

“The truth?  Oh, very simply. I inquired at Saigon; and I succeeded in finding a sergeant in the Second Regiment of Marines, who was in the First Regiment at the same time with Crochard.  He gave me all these details.  And there is no mistake about the identity; for, as soon as I said ‘Crochard’ the sergeant exclaimed, ’Oh, yes!  Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet.’”

And, as the doctor bowed without saying a word, the magistrate said,—­

“I resume the account.  The statements of the accused since his arrest are too insignificant to be here reported.  There is only one peculiarity of importance for the prosecution, which may possibly serve to enable us to trace the instigators of this crime.  On three occasions, and in the presence of, at least, three witnesses each time, Crochard has used, in almost the same terms, these words,—­

“’No one would believe the strange acquaintances one makes in prisons.  You meet there young men of family, who have done a foolish thing, and lots of people, who, wishing to make a fortune all at once, had no chance.  When they come out from there, many of these fellows get into very good positions; and then, if you meet them, they don’t know you.  I have known some people there, who now ride in their carriages.’”

The doctor had become silent.

“Oh!” he said half aloud, “might not some of these people whom the assassin has known in prison have put arms in his hand?”

“That is the very question I asked myself.”

“Because, you see, some of Daniel’s enemies are fearful people; and if you knew what is in this letter here in my hand, which, no doubt, will be the cause of that poor boy’s death”—­

“Allow me to finish, doctor,” said the man of law.  And then, more rapidly, he went on,—­

“Here follows a blank.  How the accused lived in Paris, to which he had returned after his release, is not known.  Did he resort to mean cheating, or to improper enterprises, in order to satisfy his passions?  The prosecution is reduced to conjectures, since Crochard has refused to give details, and only makes very general statements as to these years.