"When a man has the means of clearing himself, and does not choose to do so," replied the Chevalier, well understanding to what I alluded, "he must rest under the imputation of guilt till he does. Now, sir, I leave you. Arnault, give him your assistance, and rejoin me to-morrow morning;" and so saying, without farther explanation, he turned his horse and galloped away. Though the evening light was of that dim and dusky nature which affords, perhaps, less assistance to the eye than even the more positive darkness of the night, yet I could very well distinguish by the height and form, that the person the Chevalier called Arnault was not the little, large-headed procureur of Lourdes, but rather his son; and as soon as we were alone, he confirmed my conjecture by his voice asking if I were hurt. "Not much, Jean Baptiste," replied I: "my hands are cut, and he has grazed my throat with his knife; but he has not injured me seriously. Catch my horse, good Arnault," I continued, "and ride on to the cottage, about half a mile on the road--bring some one with lights, that we may see who this is--though, in truth I guess." "You had better take my pistols, Monsieur le Comte," said the honest youth, "lest there should be a second of these gentlemen in the wood." I took one, and leaving him the other for his own defence, sent him on as fast as possible to the cottage; for although, from the manner in which my assailant had attempted to effect my death, so like the Marquis de St. Brie's directions for killing the carp, I had little doubt in regard to whom I should find in the person of the dead man, yet I wished to ascertain the fact more precisely, that no doubt should remain upon my mind in regard to Monsieur de St. Brie himself. Soon after Jean Baptiste was gone, the moon began to raise her head over the mountain; and, streaming directly down the road, showed me fully the person of the dead man, through whose head the ball of the Chevalier's pistol had passed in a direct line, causing almost instantaneous death. All doubt was now at an end: there lay the large heavy limbs of the man, who had been called Monsieur de Simon, while his steeple-crowned hat appeared rolled to some distance on the road. The effects of the dreadful struggle between us were visible in all his apparel. His doublet was torn in twenty different places with the straining grasp in which I had held him, and an immense black wig, which he had worn as a sort of disguise, had followed his hat, and left his head bare. In rising I had rolled him off me on his back, so that he was lying with the beams of the moon shining full in his face.