"How did he do it?"

Cocoleu's restless eyes wandered incessantly from the count, who looked
indignant, to the countess, who seemed to listen with painful surprise.
The magistrate repeated,--

"Speak!"

After another moment's hesitation, the idiot began to explain what
he had seen; and it took him many minutes to state, amid countless
contortions, and painful efforts to speak, that he had seen M. de
Boiscoran pull out some papers from his pocket, light them with a
match, put them under a rick of straw near by, and push the burning mass
towards two enormous piles of wood which were in close contact with a
vat full of spirits.

"This is sheer nonsense!" cried the doctor, thus giving words to what
they all seemed to feel.

But M. Galpin had mastered his excitement. He said solemnly,--

"At the first sign of applause or of displeasure, I shall send for the
gendarmes, and have the room cleared."

Then, turning once more to Cocoleu, he said,--

"Since you saw M. de Boiscoran so distinctly, tell us how he was
dressed."