“Yes, indeed.”
“He must also have had his reasons for taking to the marshes, on his way out, instead of going by the turnpike, and for coming back through the woods.”
Old Anthony was literally tearing his hair, as he exclaimed,—
“Ah, sir! These are the very words M. Galpin said.”
“Unfortunately every man in his senses will say so.”
“I know, sir: I know it but too well. And Master Jacques himself knew it so well that at first he tried to find some pretext; but he has never told a falsehood. And he who is such a clever man could not find a pretext that had any sense in it. He said he had gone to Brechy to see his wood-merchant”—
“And why should he not?”
Anthony shook his head, and said,—
“Because the wood-merchant at Brechy is a thief, and everybody knows that master has kicked him out of the house some three years ago. We sell all our wood at Sauveterre.”
M. Folgat had taken out a note-book, and wrote down some of Anthony’s statements, preparing thus the outline of his defence. This being done, he commenced again,—