Ten persons had seen him, having remained there till his departure.

Now the driver of the diligence stated that he had set down the murdered
woman on the road between half past nine and ten o'clock.

The accused was acquitted. A will, a long time made, which had been left
in the hands of a notary in Rennes, made him universal legatee. So he
inherited everything.

For a long time the people of the country put him into quarantine, as
they still suspected him. His house, which was that of the dead woman,
was looked upon as accursed. People avoided him in the street.

But he showed himself so good-natured, so open, so familiar, that
gradually these horrible doubts were forgotten. He was generous,
obliging, ready to talk to the humblest about anything as long as they
cared to talk to him.

The notary, Maitre Rameay, was one of the first to take his part,
attracted by his smiling loquacity. He said one evening at a dinner at
the tax-collector's house:

"A man who speaks with such facility and who is always in good-humor
could not have such a crime on his conscience."

Touched by this argument, the others who were present reflected, and
they recalled to mind the long conversations with this man who made them
stop almost by force at the road corners to communicate his ideas to
them, who insisted on their going into his house when they were passing
by his garden, who could crack a joke better than the lieutenant of the