"It cost me three dollars to come here and save a man from jail to-day, m'sieu' le juge," he added firmly. The Judge pressed the point of his cane against the stomach of the hypocrite and perjurer. "If the Devil and you meet, he will take off his hat to you, my escaped anarchist"— Dolores started almost violently now—"for you can teach him much, and Ananias was the merest aboriginal to you. But we'll get you—we'll get you, Dolores. You saved that guilty fellow by a careful and remarkable perjury to-day. In a long experience I have never seen a better performance—have you, monsieur?" he added to M. Fille.
"But once," was the pointed and deliberate reply. "Ah, when was that?" asked Judge Carcasson, interested.
"The year monsieur le juge was ill, and Judge Blaquiere took your place.
It was in Vilray at the Court House here."
"Ah—ah, and who was the phenomenon—the perfect liar?" asked the Judge with the eagerness of the expert.
"His name was Sebastian Dolores," meditatively replied M. Fille. "It was even a finer performance than that of to-day."
The Judge gave a little grunt of surprise. "Twice, eh?" he asked. "Yet this was good enough to break any record," he added. He fastened the young widow's eyes. "Madame, you are young, and you have an eye of intelligence. Be sure of this: you can protect yourself against almost anyone except a liar—eh, madame?" he added to Mere Langlois. "I am sure your experience of life and your good sense—"
"My good sense would make me think purgatory was hell if I saw him"— she nodded savagely at Dolores as she said it, for she had seen that last effort of his to take the fingers of Palass Poucette's widow—"if I saw him there, m'sieu' le juge."
"We'll have you yet—we'll have you yet, Dolores," said the Judge, as the Spaniard prepared to move on. But, as Dolores went, he again caught the eyes of the young widow.
This made him suddenly bold. "'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour,'—that is the commandment, is it not, m'sieu' le juge? You are doing against me what I didn't do in Court to-day. I saved a man from your malice."
The crook of the Judge's cane caught the Spaniard's arm, and held him gently.