“The meadows around Boiscoran are very wet.”
“Do not attempt to deny it. You have been seen there.”
“But”—
“Young Ribot met you at the moment when you were crossing the canal.”
M. de Boiscoran made no reply.
“Where were you going?” asked the magistrate.
For the first time a real embarrassment appeared in the features of the accused,—the embarrassment of a man who suddenly sees an abyss opening before him. He hesitated; and, seeing that it was useless to deny, he said,—
“I was going to Brechy.”
“To whom?”
“To my wood-merchant, who has bought all this year’s wood. I did not find him at home, and came back on the high road.”