"He had light trousers on," replied the idiot, stammering still most
painfully, "a dark-brown shooting-jacket, and a big straw hat. His
trousers were stuffed into his boots."

Two or three peasants looked at each other, as if they had at last hit
upon a suspicious fact. The costume which Cocoleu had so accurately
described was well known to them all.

"And when he had kindled the fire," said the magistrate again, "what did
he do next?"

"He hid behind the woodpile."

"And then?"

"He loaded his gun, and, when master came out, he fired."

Count Claudieuse was so indignant that he forgot the pain which his
wounds caused him, and raised himself on his bed.

"It is monstrous," he exclaimed, "to allow an idiot to charge an
honorable man with such a crime! If he really saw M. de Boiscoran set
the house on fire, and hide himself in order to murder me, why did he
not come and warn me?"

Mr. Galpin repeated the question submissively, to the great amazement of
the mayor and M. Daubigeon.

"Why did you not give warning?" he asked Cocoleu.