"If you do not take it of yourself, madame," he said, "I shall be
compelled to summon the police; we shall then compel you to take the
seat, and in order to prevent your rising, the chains will be bound
around your arms."

The countess answered only with an exclamation of anger, and fixed
her inquiring looks upon the judges, the accusers, the defenders,
and then again upon the spectators. Everywhere she encountered only
a threatening mien and suspicious looks, nowhere an expression of
sympathy. But it was just this which seemed to give her courage and
to steel her strength. She raised her head proudly, forced the smile
again upon her lips, and took her seat upon the chair with a grace
and dignity as if she were in a brilliant saloon, and was taking her
seat upon an elegant sofa. The president of the court now turned his
grave, rigid face to the countess, and asked: "Who are you, madame?
What is your name, and how old are you?"

The countess gave way to a loud, melodious laugh. "My lord
president," answered she, "it is very clear that you are not much
accustomed to deal with ladies, or else you would not take the
liberty of asking a lady, like myself in her prime, after her age. I
will pardon you this breach of etiquette, and I will magnanimously
pretend not to have heard that question, in order to answer the
others. You wish to know my name? I am the Countess Lamotte-Valois
of France, the latest descendant of the former Kings of Prance; and
if in this unhappy land, which is trodden to the dust by a stupid
king and a dissolute queen, right and justice still prevailed, I
should sit on the throne of France, and the coquette who now
occupies it would be sitting here in this criminal's chair, to