"Certainly," he answered in an embarrassed tone, "we have often made
a party at cards, you understand, while sipping our 'gloria.'"*

[* Coffee and brandy.]

The man's inquietude struck the four who heard him. Plantat,
especially, betrayed profound surprise. The old vagabond was too
shrewd not to perceive the effect which he produced.

"Faith, so much the worse!" cried he: "I'll tell you everything.
Every man for himself, isn't it? If Guespin has done the deed, it
will not blacken him any more, nor make him any the worse off. I
know him, simply because he used to sell me the grapes and
strawberries from the count's conservatories; I suppose he stole
them; we divided the money, and I left."

Plantat could not refrain from an exclamation of satisfaction, as
if to say, "Good luck! I knew it well enough!"

When he said he would be sent to prison, Bertaud was not wrong.
The judge ordered his arrest.

It was now Philippe's turn.

The poor fellow was in a pitiable state; he was crying bitterly.

"To accuse me of such a crime, me!" he kept repeating.

On being questioned he told the pure and simple truth, excusing