“Well, Andre-Louis Moreau, if you can state your plea briefly, I will hear you.  But I warn you that I shall be very angry if you fail to justify the impertinence of this insistence at so inopportune a moment.”

“You shall be the judge of that, monsieur,” said Andre-Louis, and he proceeded at once to state his case, beginning with the shooting of Mabey, and passing thence to the killing of M. de Vilmorin.  But he withheld until the end the name of the great gentleman against whom he demanded justice, persuaded that did he introduce it earlier he would not be allowed to proceed.

He had a gift of oratory of whose full powers he was himself hardly conscious yet, though destined very soon to become so..  He told his story well, without exaggeration, yet with a force of simple appeal that was irresistible.  Gradually the great man’s face relaxed from its forbidding severity.  Interest, warming almost to sympathy, came to be reflected on it.

“And who, sir, is the man you charge with this?”

“The Marquis de La Tour d’Azyr.”

The effect of that formidable name was immediate.  Dismayed anger, and an arrogance more utter than before, took the place of the sympathy he had been betrayed into displaying.

“Who?” he shouted, and without waiting for an answer, “Why, here’s impudence,” he stormed on, “to come before me with such a charge against a gentleman of M. de La Tour d’Azyr’s eminence!  How dare you speak of him as a coward.”

“I speak of him as a murderer,” the young man corrected.  “And I demand justice against him.”

“You demand it, do you?  My God, what next?”

“That is for you to say, monsieur.”

It surprised the great gentleman into a more or less successful effort of self-control.

“Let me warn you,” said he, acidly, “that it is not wise to make wild accusations against a nobleman.  That, in itself, is a punishable offence, as you may learn.  Now listen to me.  In this matter of Mabey — assuming your statement of it to be exact — the gamekeeper may have exceeded his duty; but by so little that it is hardly worth comment.  Consider, however, that in any case it is not a matter for the King’s Lieutenant, or for any court but the seigneurial court of M. de La Tour d’Azyr himself.  It is before the magistrates of his own appointing that such a matter must be laid, since it is matter strictly concerning his own seigneurial jurisdiction.  As a lawyer you should not need to be told so much.”

“As a lawyer, I am prepared to argue the point.  But, as a lawyer I also realize that if that case were prosecuted, it could only end in the unjust punishment of a wretched gamekeeper, who did no more than carry out his orders, but who none the less would now be made a scapegoat, if scapegoat were necessary.  I am not concerned to hang Benet on the gallows earned by M. de La Tour d’Azyr.”

M. de Lesdiguieres smote the table violently.  “My God!” he cried out, to add more quietly, on a note of menace, “You are singularly insolent, my man.”