“I understand but too well how grieved you must be at seeing me kept in prison without my making an effort to establish my innocence. I kept silence, because I hoped the proof of my innocence would come from outside. I see that it would be madness to hope so any longer, and that I must speak. I shall speak. But what I have to say is so very serious, that I shall keep silence until I shall have had an opportunity of consulting with some one in whom I can feel perfect confidence. Prudence alone is not enough now: skill also is required. Until now I felt secure, relying on my innocence. But the last examination has opened my eyes, and I now see the danger to which I am exposed. “I shall suffer terribly until the day when I can see a lawyer. Thank my mother for having brought one. I hope he will pardon me, if I address myself first to another man. I want a man who knows the country and its customs. “That is why I have chosen M. Magloire; and I beg you will tell him to hold himself ready for the day on which, the examination being completed, I shall be relieved from close confinement. “Until then, nothing can be done, nothing, unless you can obtain that the case be taken out of M. G-----‘s hands, and be given to some one else. That man acts infamously. He wants me to be guilty. He would himself commit a crime in order to charge me with it, and there is no kind of trap he does not lay for me. I have the greatest difficulty in controlling myself every time I see this man enter my cell, who was my friend, and now is my accuser. “Ah, my dear ones! I pay a heavy price for a fault of which I have been, until now, almost unconscious. “And you, my only friend, will you ever be able to forgive me the terrible anxiety I cause you? “I should like to say much more; but the prisoner who has handed me your note says I must be quick, and it takes so much time to pick out the words! “J.” When the letter had been read, M. Folgat and M. de Chandore sadly turned their heads aside, fearing lest Dionysia should read in their eyes the secret of their thoughts. But she felt only too well what it meant. “You cannot doubt Jacques, grandpapa!” she cried. “No,” murmured the old gentleman feebly, “no.” “And you, M. Folgat--are you so much hurt by Jacques’s desire to consult another lawyer?” “I should have been the first, madam, to advise him to consult a native.” Dionysia had to summon all her energy to check her tears. “Yes,” she said, “this letter is terrible; but how can it be otherwise? Don’t you see that Jacques is in despair, that his mind wanders after all these fearful shocks?” Somebody knocked gently at the door. “It is I,” said the marchioness. Grandpapa Chandore, M. Folgat, and Dionysia looked at each other for a moment; and then the advocate said,--