"You have deceived me, my friends!" said the marquis, determined to force the truth from them; "you did not bury Monsieur d'Alvimar yourselves! You were afraid, or had scruples, or did not like to do it; you notified Monsieur Poulain."

"No, monsieur, no!" cried La Caille-Bottée earnestly; "we would never have done such a thing, knowing that Monsieur Poulain is against you! Since you know that we didn't obey you, you must know also that it wasn't our fault, and that the devil in person had a hand in it."

"Tell me what happened," rejoined the marquis; "I propose to find out whether you will tell me the truth."

The gardener, convinced that the marquis knew more than she knew herself, told her story succinctly as follows:

"When you had gone, dear monsieur, the first thing we did was to carry the dead body into our garden, where we covered it over with a great mat; for I wasn't at all anxious to bring it into the house, and didn't see the use of it. I confess that I was terribly afraid of it, and I wouldn't have consented to receive such company for anybody but you, my good monsieur.

"Jean called me a fool and laughed at me, while he was drinking the rest of his wine, to protect himself from the cold night air, so he said, but perhaps it was to turn his mind away from the dismal thoughts that always come to a body at the sight of a corpse, no matter how hard your heart may be.

"I must also confess that the first thing poor Jean here thought of was to take what there was in the dead man's pockets and in the saddle-bags on the horse that brought him here. You hadn't said anything about it, so we thought it belonged to us, and we were sitting here counting the money on the table, so that we could hand over every sou to you, if you should claim it.

"There was a good-sized purse full of gold, and Jean, who was still drinking, enjoyed staring at it and handling it. What can you expect, monsieur? poor people like us are surprised when we have any of it to handle. And we were making plans about how we would spend that fortune. Jean wanted to buy a vineyard, but I said it would be much better to have an orchard well stocked with bearing nut trees; and here we sat, half laughing with joy to find ourselves so rich, half disputing over the use we should make of our money, when the cuckoo-clock struck four in the morning.

"'Now,' says I to poor Jean, 'I am not afraid any more, and as you aren't very spry with your wooden leg, although you can use the spade a little with your good foot, I'll help you to dig the grave. I never wished ill to any living man; but as long as this gentleman is dead, I don't want him to come to life again. There are people in the world who, by going out of it, benefit those who are left.'

"I shall have to admit my guilt, my dear monsieur, for that's the only prayer that that wicked Jean and I said for the dead man.