"Emile Durand," continued Rouge in a calm, even voice, "was a chemist in Paris, with a wife and child whom he dearly loved. He was a good citizen, a good father, a fond husband. The good God bestowed on him happiness, but his happiness was destroyed by death."
"What does this foolishness mean?"
"You will soon know, Madame," said Rouge. "It means that you and your cursed assassins threw a bomb into my shop. You killed my wife and child wickedly and cruelly. I lived but to avenge them. To-night I do so."
"Seize him! drag him forward!" shouted Drabble.
"Stand back, murderer!" shrieked Rouge, his face scarlet with rage, his eyes sparkling. "You see, I have my hand on the wall. I press it, and the mine below is fired. You will be----"
A wail of terror rose from the crowd. They shrank back from the man. Madame flung herself across the table, less afraid than furious.
"Seize him!" she cried madly. "Traitor! kill him; he lies! The button which explodes the mine is at my back."
Drabble whipped out a revolver, and the crowd reeled forward, mad with terror and anger.
"Who laid the mine?" cried Rouge, undaunted. "I did. The wire yonder is a false one. The real communication is here, under my hand."
"Betrayed, betrayed!" yelled Madame, throwing herself down. "Shoot him! kill him!"