A.--I went therefore to the priest at Brechy, that evening: unluckily there was no one at home at the parsonage when I got there. I was ringing the third or fourth time in vain, when a little peasant-girl came by, who told me that she had just met the priest at the Marshalls’ Cross-roads. I thought at once I would go and meet him, and went in that direction. But I walked more than four miles without meeting him. I thought the girl must have been mistaken, and went home again. P.--Is that your explanation? A.--Yes. P.--And you think it a plausible one? A.--I have promised to say not what is plausible, but what is true. I may confess, however, that, precisely because the explanation is so simple, I did not venture at first to give it. And yet if no crime had been committed, and I had said the day after, “Yesterday I went to see the priest at Brechy, and did not find him,” who would have seen any thing unnatural in my statement? P.--And, in order to fulfil so simple a duty, you chose a roundabout way, which is not only troublesome, but actually dangerous, right across the swamps? A.--I chose the shortest way. P.--Then, why were you so frightened upon meeting young Ribot at the Seille Canal? A.--I was not frightened, but simply surprised, as one is apt to be when suddenly meeting a man where no one is expected. And, if I was surprised, young Ribot was not less so. P.--You see that you hoped to meet no one? A.--Pardon me, I did not say so. To expect is not the same as to hope. P.--Why, then did you take such pains to explain your being there? A.--I gave no explanations. Young Ribot first told me, laughingly, where he was going, and then I told him that I was going to Brechy. P.--You told him, also, that you were going through the marshes to shoot birds, and, at the same time you showed him your gun? A.--That may be. But is that any proof against me? I think just the contrary. If I had had such criminal intentions as the prosecution suggests, I should certainly have gone back after meeting people, knowing that I was exposed to great danger. But I was only going to see my friend, the priest. P.--And for such a visit you took your gun? A.--My land lies in the woods and marshes, and there was not a day when I did not bag a rabbit or a waterfowl. Everybody in the neighborhood will tell you that I never went out without a gun. P.--And on your return, why did you go through the forest of Rochepommier? A.--Because, from the place where I was on the road, it was probably the shortest way to Boiscoran. I say probably, because just then I did not think much about that. A man who is taking a walk would be very much embarrassed, in the majority of cases, if he had to give a precise account why he took one road rather than another. P.--You were seen in the forest by a woodcutter, called Gaudry? A.--So I was told by the magistrate.