De Tonty remained beside me, his hand resting on my chair back, as he coolly surveyed the scene. Cassion pushed past, and occupied a vacant chair, between the other officers, laying his sword on the table. My eyes swept about the circle of faces seeking De Artigny, but he was not present. But for a slight shuffling of feet, the silence was oppressive. Cassion's unpleasant voice broke the stillness. "M. de Tonty, there is a chair yonder reserved for your use." "I prefer remaining beside Madame Cassion," he answered calmly. "It would seem she has few friends in this company." "We are all her friends," broke in De Baugis, his face flushing, "but we are here to do justice, and avenge a foul crime. 'Tis told us that madame possesses certain knowledge which has not been revealed. Other witnesses have testified, and we would now listen to her word. Sergeant of the guard, bring in the prisoner." He entered by way of the rear door, manacled, and with an armed soldier on either side. Coatless and bareheaded, he stood erect in the place assigned him, and as his eyes swept the faces, his stern look changed to a smile as his glance met mine. My eyes were still upon him, seeking eagerly for some message of guidance, when Cassion spoke. "M. de Baugis will question the witness." "The court will pardon me," said De Artigny. "The witness to be heard is Madame?" "Certainly; what means your interruption?" "To spare the lady unnecessary embarrassment. She is my friend, and, no doubt, may find it difficult to testify against me. I merely venture to ask her to give this court the exact truth." "Your words are impertinent." "No, M. de Baugis," I broke in, understanding all that was meant. "Sieur de Artigny has spoken in kindness, and has my thanks. I am ready now to bear witness frankly." Cassion leaned over whispering, but De Baugis merely frowned, and shook his head, his eyes on my face. I felt the friendly touch of M. de Tonty's hand on my shoulder, and the slight pressure brought me courage. "What is it you desire me to tell, Monsieur?" "The story of your midnight visit to the Mission garden at St. Ignace, the night Hugo Chevet was killed. Tell it in your own words, Madame."