Sidonie had stumbled upon a stick, and Jean now stooped down and lifted her upon his shoulder. “What are you doing, Jean? You will be worn out and delayed if you carry me.” “You are like a bird, little one. Have no fear. We will go faster now.” “Finish your story, Jean,” she requested at last. “Well, time went on, and still I suffered. Bruno noticed it finally, and asked me the trouble--Bruno, who had come to me with all his little troubles. Like a fool, I began to cry. My heart was full and I told him all. The following day he went away on foot to Rouvray, and he saw Jeanne and her mother. I do not know what he said, but a week later he brought us together. I could only look at her, with wide open eyes. It was Jeanne who first spoke. She told me it would not be so disagreeable to be my wife--she so pretty, so dainty, so winning, and I so ugly, uncouth, and boorish. Well, I asked her if she could really love me--and in three months we were married. And I am so happy! so happy! And, Sidonie, my wife--ah, she loves me--ugly and clumsy as I am; and it is to Bruno, who brought it about, that I owe my happiness. Bruno! Yes, I would lay down my life for him. I owe him everything.” Jean would have continued, but Sidonie, exhausted and benumbed with cold, had fallen asleep in his arms. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XVIII. L’OURS. At three o’clock the officers, prisoners, and onlookers arrived at St. Benoit, and the examination soon commenced. It was his first criminal case, and the magistrate began proceedings by questioning everybody right and left in regard to the affair. Jacques Percier related the walnut grove incident. Mademoiselle Faillot was asked her opinion of the mystery, and Andoche was interrogated. “It is as clear as day,” said the magistrate. The two prisoners were then closely questioned. Bruno confessed that he was guilty of the crime, and Catherine did not deny the statement. “Nothing plainer,” said the magistrate, at last, to the justice. “Permit me to say that one thing mystifies me,” returned the justice. “More than one-half the peasants declare the young man innocent.” “Just so, my dear justice. But nevertheless he is guilty.” “And the gamekeeper’s wife herself has intimated that we must not believe him.” “Yes, I know that. But she is driven to an extremity by her love for the unfortunate fellow. That is the most interesting part of the affair.” “But, on the other hand, Bruno declares that Madame Barrau knows nothing that he did.” “Of course. They are bent on shielding each other. That proves they are both guilty. Well, we must take them to Avallon.--Banastre, will you see to the conveyance? What time is it now?” He consulted his watch. “Ten minutes of four. We must be off in half an hour.” Banastre went in quest of a vehicle for the prisoners, and the others waited for further developments. Andoche wondered why the officers did not visit the scene of the murder, and so expressed himself.