"'May the Lord Almighty preserve me from such a thought,' I replied, quite lamb-like, and to please him I added, '--a kind, considerate, and just magistrate like you, sir.' "'That's enough, that's enough,' he says, but I could see that he was pleased. "He then sent me back to gaol, and said he'd send for me next day. I heard afterwards that Chambardeau was examined after me: he swore on the head of his mother that he had hurt himself by falling with the knife, which he held open in his hand to peel an orange, and that while we were skylarking he slipped on a bit of orange-peel. But the judge told him that he could not possibly have inflicted that wound of his on himself--and to prove it he read the doctor's report. Chambardeau replied that he had always been clumsy with knives, ever since he was two months old; but he overdid it, you know. I've always told him so--he overdid it when he showed the judge a scar on his right arm, and said he had cut himself there while slicing bread when he was two years of age. The judge, of course, tried to make him believe that I had confessed, but Chambardeau, whose temper was rather quick, replied that he knew that was a d----d lie, and so the judge sent him back to gaol. Mimi was fine; she said she had seen nothing of a fight, but that we were skylarking, and that Chambardeau had slipped on some orange-peel and fell on his knife. "I was examined three times that week, and once the next, and on the third week was 'confronted' with Chambardeau and Mimi. We all stuck to our story, swore that the _sergots_ had told nothing but lies, and everything was going on beautifully until the judge picks up our knives that were lying on his table. One of them was still covered with dried-up blood: it was mine; so the judge says, 'Whose knife is that?' 'Hullo, they've found my knife,' Chambardeau says natural like. 'You are quite sure it belongs to you?' says the judge. "'Sure!' answers Chambardeau; 'sure! a knife I've had for more than a year: I remember the day I bought it like if it was yesterday. It was a Monday, and it was raining hard, and it was just to get out of the rain that I went into the shop and bought it." "'_Greffier_,'[29] says the judge to his clerk, 'you have carefully taken down this deposition?' "'Yes, sir,' answers the _greffier_. "'And this knife?' asks the judge, taking another one from the table, 'is that yours?' I saw Chambardeau wink at me, but did not understand, so thinking it was Chambardeau's knife I said boldly, 'For sure it's my knife, sir.' "'Look at it carefully,' the judge says, handing it over to me. I looked at it, and, without pretending to do so, looked at the maker's name. 'Of course it is my knife,' I again said, handing it back to the judge. "'And where did you buy it?' he then asked.