M. de Sairmeuse turned to his colleague.

“You hear that!” said he.  “This d’Escorval calls the restitution of a deposit a great misfortune!  Go on, witness.”

“In the second place,” resumed Chupin, “the accused was always prowling about Lacheneur’s house.”

“That is false,” interrupted the baron.  “I never visited the house but once, and on that occasion I implored him to renounce.”

He paused, comprehending only when it was too late, the terrible significance of his words.  But having begun, he would not retract, and he added: 

“I implored him to renounce this project of an insurrection.”

“Ah! then you knew his wicked intentions?”

“I suspected them.”

“Not to reveal a conspiracy makes one an accomplice, and means the guillotine.”

Baron d’Escorval had just signed his death-warrant.

Strange caprice of destiny!  He was innocent, and yet he was the only one among the accused whom a regular tribunal could have legally condemned.

Maurice and the abbe were prostrated with grief; but Chanlouineau, who turned toward them, had still upon his lips a smile of confidence.

How could he hope when all hope seemed absolutely lost?

But the commissioners made no attempt to conceal their satisfaction.  M. de Sairmeuse, especially, evinced an indecent joy.

“Ah, well!  Messieurs?” he said to the lawyers, in a sneering tone.

The counsel for the defence poorly dissimulated their discouragement; but they nevertheless endeavored to question the validity of such a declaration on the part of their client.  He had said that he suspected the conspiracy, not that he knew it.  It was quite a different thing.

“Say at once that you wish still more overwhelming evidence,” interrupted the duke.  “Very well!  You shall have it.  Continue your deposition, witness.”

“The accused,” continued Chupin, “was present at all the conferences held at Lacheneur’s house.  The proof of this is as clear as daylight.  Being obliged to cross the Oiselle to reach the Reche, and fearing the ferryman would notice his frequent nocturnal voyages, the baron had an old boat repaired which he had not used for years.”

“Ah! that is a remarkable circumstance, prisoner; do you recollect having your boat repaired?”

“Yes; but not for the purpose which this man mentions.”

“For what purpose, then?”

The baron made no response.  Was it not in compliance with the request of Maurice that the boat had been put in order?

“And finally,” continued Chupin, “when Lacheneur set fire to his house to give the signal for the insurrection, the prisoner was with him.”

“That,” exclaimed the duke, “is conclusive evidence.”

“I was, indeed, at the Reche,” interrupted the baron; “but it was, as I have already told you, with the firm determination of preventing this outbreak.”