his eyes sought a chance to escape. Seeing none--for the windows
and doors were crowded with the lookers-on--he fell into a chair.
The fellow appeared the image of terror, wrought up to paroxysm. On
his livid face, black and blue, were visible the marks of the blows
he had received in the struggle; his white lips trembled, and he
moved his jaws as if he sought a little saliva for his burning
tongue; his staring eyes were bloodshot, and expressed the wildest
distress; his body was bent with convulsive spasms. So terrible
was this spectacle, that the mayor thought it might be an example
of great moral force. He turned toward the crowd, and pointing to
Guespin, said in a tragic tone:

"See what crime is!"

The others exchanged surprised looks.

"If he is guilty," muttered M. Plantat, "why on earth has he
returned?"

It was with difficulty that the crowd was kept back; the brigadier
was forced to call in the aid of his men. Then he returned and
placed himself beside Guespin, thinking it not prudent to leave
him alone with unarmed men.

But the man was little to be feared. The reaction came; his
over-excited energy became exhausted, his strained muscles flaccid,
and his prostration resembled the agony of brain fever. Meanwhile
the brigadier recounted what had happened.

"Some of the servants of the chateau and the neighboring houses were