P.—You were seen in the forest by a woodcutter, called Gaudry?
A.—So I was told by the magistrate.
P.—That witness deposes that you were in a state of great excitement. You were tearing leaves from the branches, you were talking loud.
A.—I certainly was very much vexed at having lost my evening, and particularly vexed at having relied on the little peasant-girl. It is quite likely that I might have exclaimed, as I walked along, “Plague upon my friend, the priest, who goes and dines in town!” or some such words.
There was a smile in the assembly, but not such as to attract the president’s attention.
P.—You know that the priest of Brechy was dining out that day?
M. Magloire rose, and said,—
“It is through us, sir, that the accused has found out this fact. When he told us how he had spent the evening, we went to see the priest at Brechy, who told us how it came about that neither he nor his old servant was at the parsonage. At our request the priest has been summoned. We shall also produce another priest, who at that time passed the Marshalls’ Cross-roads, and was the one whom the little girl had seen.”
Having made a sign to counsel to sit down again, the president once more turns to the accused.
P.—The woman Courtois who met you deposes that you looked very curious. You did not speak to her: you were in great haste to escape from her.