“You helped to get him arrested?”
“That is not true sir.”
“You are in the presence of the Law; be careful,” said Monsieur Camusot severely.
Madame Poiret was silent.
“Try to remember,” Camusot went on. “Do you recollect the man? Would you know him again?”
“I think so.”
“Is this the man?”
Madame Poiret put on her “eye-preservers,” and looked at the Abbe Carlos Herrera.
“It is his build, his height; and yet—no—if—Monsieur le Juge,” she said, “if I could see his chest I should recognize him at once.”
The magistrate and his clerk could not help laughing, notwithstanding the gravity of their office; Jacques Collin joined in their hilarity, but discreetly. The prisoner had not put on his coat after Bibi-Lupin had removed it, and at a sign from the judge he obligingly opened his shirt.