"By the judges, possibly not—but by us."
Fongereues held himself more erect.
"Tell me what you mean, Cyprien?" he asked.
The lacquey laughed.
"I mean simply, that I will kill this Fanfar!"
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE TRIAL.
Political trials are all much alike, and this of Fanfar was no exception. On the day that it was to take place the pretended assassin and his pretended accomplice (that is to say Fanfar), were led to the court-room, where the magistrates, in their red robes and ermine, were seated. The newspapers, while attacking Fanfar furiously, had not omitted to mention that the accused was excessively handsome. This naturally brought a large number of women to the trial, and when the prisoner appeared, there was a low hum of admiration and surprise. Fanfar's companion, the man of whom Fanfar had made, it was said, a tool, excited neither admiration nor sympathy. Fanfar looked at him once and turned away in disgust.