The constables shifted from one foot to the other, looked at each other
meaningly, and instinctively felt their weapons.

"I believe," said the Seigneur evenly, "that--" The Abbe interrupted.
"He can have information at his trial."

"Excuse me, but the warrant has my endorsement," said the Seigneur, "and,
as the justice most concerned, I shall give proper information to the
gentleman under suspicion." He waved a hand at the Abbe, as at a
fractious child, and turned courteously to Charley.

"Monsieur," he said, "on the tenth of August last the cathedral at Quebec
was broken into, and the gold altar-vessels were stolen. You are
suspected. The same day an attempt was made to blow up the Governor's
residence. You are suspected."

"On what ground, Monsieur?"

"You appeared in this vicinity three days afterwards with an injury to
the head. Now, the incendiary received a severe blow on the head from a
servant of the Governor. You see the connection, Monsieur?"

"Where is the servant of the Governor, Monsieur?"

"Dead, unfortunately. He told the story so often, to so much
hospitality, that he lost his footing on Mountain Street steps--you
remember Mountain Street steps possibly, Monsieur?--and cracked his head
on the last stone."