“Pardon me!  There was that share in the great fortune.”

“Ah!  You knew very well that Chevassat would never have paid you anything.”

Crochard’s hands twitched nervously.  He cried out,—­

“Chevassat cheat me! cochonnere!  I would have—­but no; he knows me; he would never have dared”—­

The magistrate had caught the prisoner’s eye, and, fixing him sternly, he said good-naturedly,—­

“Why did you tell me, then, that that man magnetized you, and frightened you out of your wits?”

The wretch had gone into the snare, and, instead of answering, hung his head, and tried to sob.

“Repentance is all very well,” said the lawyer, who did not seem to be in the least touched; “but just now it would be better for you to explain how your trip to Cochin China was arranged.  Come, collect yourself, and give us the details.”

“As to that,” he resumed his account, “you see Chevassat explained to me everything at breakfast; and the very same day he gave me the address which you found on the paper in which the bank-notes were wrapped up.”

“What did he give you M. Champcey’s address for?”

“So that I might know him personally.”

“Well, go on.”

“At first, when I heard he was a lieutenant in the navy, I said I must give it up, knowing as I did that with such men there is no trifling.  But Chevassat scolded me so terribly, and called me such hard names, that I finally got mad, and promised everything.

“‘Besides,’ he said to me, ’listen to my plan.  The navy department wants mechanics to go to Saigon.  They have not gotten their full number yet:  so you go and offer yourself.  They will accept you, and even pay your journey to Rochefort:  a boat will carry you out to the roadstead on board the frigate “Conquest.”  Do you know whom you will find on board?  Our man, Lieut.  Champcey.  Well, now, I tell you! that if any accident should happen to him, either during the voyage, or at Saigon, that accident will pass unnoticed, as a letter passes through the post-office.’

“Yes, that’s what he told me, every word of it; and I think I hear him now.  And I—­I was so completely bewildered, that I had nothing to say in return.  However, there was one thing which troubled me; and I thought, ’Well, after all, they won’t accept me at the navy department, with my antecedents.’

“But, when I mentioned the difficulty to Chevassat, he laughed.  Oh, but he laughed! it made me mad.

“‘You are surely more of a fool than I thought,’ he said.  ’Are your condemnations written on your face?  No, I should say.  Well, as you will exhibit your papers in excellent order, they will take you.’

“I opened my eyes wide, and said, ’That’s all very pretty, what you say; but the mischief is, that, as I have not worked at my profession for more than fifteen years, I have no papers at all.’  He shrugs his shoulders, and says, ‘You shall have your papers.’  That worries me; and I reply, ’If I have to steal somebody’s papers, and change my name, I won’t do it.’  But the brigand had his notions.  ’You shall keep your name,’ he said, touching me on the shoulder.  ’You shall always remain Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet; and you shall have your papers as engraver on metal as perfect as anybody can have them.’