"Impossible. We have no orders to take him before his worship. Read the writ!" "Nay, but good kind fellows, what harm can it be? I will give ye each an écu." "Jacques, what say you to that?" "Humph? I say we have no orders not to take him to his worship. Read the writ!" "Then say we take him to prison round by his worship." It was agreed. They got the money: and bade Gerard observe they were doing him a favour. He saw they wanted a little gratitude as well as much silver. He tried to satisfy _this_ cupidity, but it stuck in his throat. Feigning was not his forte. He entered the alderman's presence with his heart in his mouth, and begged with faltering voice to know what he had done to offend since he left that very room with Manon and Denys. "Nought that I know of," said the alderman. On the writ being shown him, he told Gerard he had signed it at daybreak. "I get old and my memory faileth me: a discussing of the girl I quite forgot your own offence: but I remember now. All is well. You are he I committed for sorcery. Stay! ere you go to gaol, you shall hear what your accuser says: run and fetch him, you." The man could not find the accuser all at once. So the alderman, getting impatient, told Gerard the main charge was that he had set a dead body a burning with diabolical fire, that flamed, but did not consume. "And if 'tis true, young man, I'm sorry for thee, for thou wilt assuredly burn with fire of good pine logs in the market-place of Neufchasteau." "Oh, sir, for pity's sake let me have speech with his reverence the curé." The alderman advised Gerard against it. "The Church was harder upon sorcerers than was the corporation." "But, sir, I am innocent," said Gerard, between snarling and whining. "Oh; if _you_--_think_--you are _innocent_--officer, go with him to the curé! but see he 'scape you not. Innocent quotha?" They found the curé in his doublet repairing a wheelbarrow. Gerard told him all, and appealed piteously to him. "Just for using a little phosphorus--in self-defence--against cut-throats they are going to hang." It was lucky for our magician that he had already told his tale in full to the curé: for thus that shrewd personage had hold of the stick at the right end. The corporation held it by the ferule. His reverence looked exceedingly grave and said, "I must question you privately on this untoward business." He took him into a private room and bade the officer stand outside and guard the door, and be ready to come if called. The big constable stood outside the door, quaking, and expecting to see the room fly away and leave a stink of brimstone. Instantly they were alone the curé unlocked his countenance and was himself again. "Show me the trick on't," said he, all curiosity. "I cannot, sir, unless the room be darkened." The curé speedily closed out the light with a wooden shutter. "Now then."