sir!"

I fell into an arm-chair, choking with rage and anguish. For a moment I
hoped that I was about to die. Edmee was dying by my side, and before me
was a judge so firmly convinced of my guilt that his usual gentle, timid
nature had become harsh and pitiless. The imminent loss of her I loved
was hurrying me into a longing for death. Yet the horrible charge
hanging over me began to rouse my energies. I did not believe that such
an accusation could stand for a single instant against the voice of
truth. I imagined that one word from me, one look, would be sufficient
to make it fall to the ground; but I felt so dazed, so deeply wounded,
that this means of defence was denied me. The more grievously the
disgrace of such a suspicion weighed upon my mind, the more clearly
I realized that it is almost impossible for a man to defend himself
successfully when his only weapon is the pride of slandered innocence.

I sat there overwhelmed, unable to utter a word. It seemed as if a
dome of lead were weighing on my skull. Suddenly the door opened and
Mademoiselle Leblanc approached me stiffly; in a tone full of hatred
she informed me that some one outside wished to speak to me. I went out
mechanically, and found Patience waiting with his arms folded, in his
most dignified attitude, and with an expression on his face which would
have compelled both respect and fear if I had been guilty.

"Monsieur de Mauprat," he said, "I must request you to grant me a
private interview. Will you kindly follow me to my cottage?"

"Yes, I will," I replied. "I am ready to endure any humiliation, if only
I can learn what is wanted of me and why you are all pleased to insult
the most unfortunate of men. Lead the way, Patience, and go quickly; I