“Oh, yes!”
“What is his name? Tell us.”
Cocoleu’s features betrayed the fearful anguish of his mind. He hesitated, and at last he answered, making a violent effort,—“Bois—Bois—Boiscoran!”
The name was received with murmurs of indignation and incredulous laughter. There was not a shadow of doubt or of suspicion. The peasants said,—
“M. de Boiscoran an incendiary! Who does he think will believe that story?”
“It is absurd!” said Count Claudieuse.
“Nonsense!” repeated the mayor and his friend.
Dr. Siegnebos had taken off his spectacles, and was wiping them with an air of intense satisfaction.
“What did I tell you?” he exclaimed. “But the gentleman did not condescend to attach any importance to my suggestions.”
The magistrate was by far the most excited man in the crowd. He had turned excessively pale, and made, visibly, the greatest efforts to preserve his equanimity. The commonwealth attorney leaned over towards him, and whispered,—