“How old is he, do you suppose?” “That is a question which the Lord only knows how to answer.” “Mademoiselle Faillot just now vehemently accused Catherine Barrau.” “Oh, she would accuse her own father, were he living, rather than keep silent. You will see that in less than forty-eight hours she will have the whole town in an uproar.” “How so?” “She will try to establish two warring factions. That is her plan of attack, and she never fails to accomplish her purpose. I tell you she is a venomous creature.” Andoche was right. Already in the Barraus’ yard two parties had been formed. One accused Catherine, and the other, composed of less adherents, proclaimed her innocence. Among those who were ready to defend Catherine were brave little Sidonie, Suzanne the young bride, and her stupid liege, Monsieur Eugène, who gave no little weight to the cause, and some peasants of less importance. Discussions were heard on every hand. The justice of the peace did not dare to take sides, but it was evident from the first that the daughter of D’Angerolles would be arrested, and compelled, if possible, to reveal the name of her accomplice. So matters stood, when all at once an incident occurred which changed the whole aspect of affairs. [Illustration] CHAPTER XVI. THE ACCUSED. Since morning Bruno had remained at home, learning the news as best he could from different sources, but not daring to go near Catherine for fear of losing his self-possession. In his heart he felt that Catherine was implicated. The proposition she had made him in the walnut grove he was certain Firmin, a little later, had accepted. He did not know that the valet was wounded, but thus far free from the charge. At length, a young man from Quarré told him the truth. “If it is not Firmin, then who is it?” thought he, with the rest. Presently the most harrowing news began to come to him from different persons. Suspicion had now fallen upon Catherine, and the accusations were multiplying against her. Finally, old Mathieu, in passing Mother Mathurine’s cottage, shouted out: “It’s a pretty sure thing now against Catherine. They will guillotine her fast enough.” Bruno shuddered. The investigation, then, had so far advanced that the method of punishment was under discussion. Never until this day had the poor fellow measured the greatness of his passion. An overmastering fear came upon him. He could scarcely stand on account of weakness. The blood rushed madly to his head. Catherine--Catherine accused of murder! The idea that perhaps she was culpable was a torture to him. He ran into his own chamber to prevent Mother Mathurine from observing his condition of mind. Despairing and excited, he threw himself upon the bed and cried aloud. He was nearly crazed with grief. “What shall I do?” he wailed. “How can I save her? While I am living she must not go to prison.”