Aymar considered him. "Then I shall have to accuse myself," he said reflectively. "Or perhaps the General will appoint an accuser. Perhaps he will make a regular court-martial of it, and arrest me; or I can give myself up. But I have not thought out any details; I came to you first. And I should have liked the letter to produce. But I suppose Magloire——"
"The letter!" exclaimed de Fresne. "No, Magloire has not got it. You wish you could produce it! Are you mad?"
"I don't think so," said Aymar rather painfully. "But I wish to keep nothing back. Did you get possession of it again then?"
"I did," replied his lieutenant. "But I am thankful to say that you cannot possibly do anything so crazy as to produce it against yourself. I destroyed it that very night. I only wish I had done so a few hours earlier."
The faint colour crept over Aymar's lips again. "You destroyed it—for my sake! My dear de Fresne, that was very good of you! But, had it still been procurable, I should have felt in honour bound to lay it before the Court."
"Well, I am thankful to say that you cannot!" retorted de Fresne. "The only written evidence against you exists no longer. And if you will take my advice, La Rocheterie, you will leave the whole matter alone now. It's too risky. Think of the time that has elapsed—not, God knows, through any fault of yours!—Tell me, how long were you against that damned tree before the Bonapartists found you? When I came back you were gone; but that was some three hours afterwards."
"You came back!"
"Did you suppose I was going to leave you there, alive or dead? Were you . . . but perhaps you would rather not talk about it. . . . At any rate, let us settle this question first. I do implore you to give up the whole idea."
Aymar looked at the wrist of the hand which lay on his knee. "Do you know what people all over the district—all over Brittany, perhaps—are saying about me? Just what you prophesied, of course. Could I be worse off if the Court did not clear me?"
"Yes, indeed you could," said de Fresne earnestly. "The story would be even wider spread; you would be branded for ever. Whereas now it is always possible for it to be said that you disdain to take any notice of it. And there are always men who never will believe you capable of such a thing. I know there are; I have met them. I met a man the other day who knew you slightly, and he laughed at the idea; said that those who believed the charge did so from personal jealousy. If you go before a court and are not completely cleared, to all intents and purposes you will have done—what you did—with the worst of intentions. You will be utterly ruined."