firemen, they rarely contained more than a
few drops of water at the bottom. In vain
the firemen remonstrated with them, telling
them to be more careful, and not to spill the
water. They were only answered by long
and loud peals of laughter. The calamity
was enjoyed by these urchins with the same
feeling—or want of feeling—as if it had been
a merry-making.

At length a diversion was occasioned by
the arrival of Monsieur the Maire in his
cocked hat, and a detachment of infantry in
undress red pantaloons and caps, and short
blue jackets. The boys now having become
tired of their fun, seized the opportunity to
run away. It was useless for the soldiers to
run after them to bring them back, for in an
instant they became invisible. The soldiers
and firemen therefore set to work in earnest
to check the progress of the conflagration;
and after two hours of untiring effort, they
had sufficiently mastered the flames to be
able to enter the house and look for Gay.
Two of the firemen were directed to search
the house, and Jules offered to guide
them through the different rooms. But it
was impossible to effect an entrance by the
front, on account of the rafters which
supported the roof having given way and fallen
in. The three men therefore proceeded to
the back and entered the dining-room, which
Jules supposed would be the least burned,
owing to the floor being paved with stone
dials. This, in fact, they found to be the
case; but the smoke in the room was so
stifling that they did not think it prudent to
continue their search. Retracing their steps,
one of the firemen stumbled over something
upon the floor. His companions, upon
turning the light of their lantern upon him, were
horrified to behold the corpse of the
unfortunate old man lying upon the ground,
his clothes covered with blood, and only
partially burnt.

The maire and the others who were
outside were called, and they were all soon
assembled in the tottering charred room.

"He has been murdered," said the maire,
"and the house has been set on fire to
conceal the crime."

"Yes; and the house has been plundered,"
added the secretary; "see how the cupboards
have been ransacked."

The corpse, after the usual formalities, was
carried to the Mairie, and the firemen and
soldiery encamped for the rest of the night
near the farm, to be at hand in case the
conflagration should break out again.

It was three o'clock in the morning when
Jean and his son entered their home, tired
and drenched. Two days after the
catastrophe they attended the funeral of Eugène
Gay, which was followed by Victor Leblanc
as chief mourner; in a few more days they
were examined by the lawyers sent from
La Reolle to investigate the case. Having
deposed to the discovery of the fire, and their
meeting with the two strange men upon the
road, Jean and Jules Delorme heard no more
of the affair for some weeks.

II.

THE first of September happened to fall on
one of those days when modern Gaul fully
justifies the appellation bestowed upon her
by enraptured travellers. All nature was
radiant with the golden glow of sun upon the
harvests of wheat and maize; every tree was
borne down by its load of mellow fruit; and,
as far as the eye could scan, the view
presented dwarf forests of green leaves and
purple grapes, intersected here and there
by a silvery arm of the Garonne river.

The little village of Bazeille also wore an
unusually animated appearance. From an
early hour there had been a bustle of young
girls, white dresses, and flowers. About
eleven o'clock, the large stone house standing
somewhat by itself upon the high-road to
La Motte Landron became the centre of
attraction. This was the residence of the
father of the bride; where a guard of honour,
composed of the young men of the two
villages, saluted every new arrival with loud
vivas.

At twelve o'clock the wedding-party came
out of the house, and formed in procession to
walk to the village church. First came the
pretty little dark-eyed bride, leaning on
her father's arm, and almost smothered in
white muslin, myrtle, and orange blossoms.
Next walked the bridegroom with the bride's
mother, followed by the bridesmaid and the
bridegroom's father. Then, two and two,
came the rest of the company, all dressed in
the gayest colours, and talking and laughing
their loudest.

As the procession moved along, groups
of young girls advanced, singing, to scatter
flowers at the feet of the lovely bride. In
this way the wedding-party had arrived
within a few steps of the quaint old village
church, when suddenly six gendarmes fully
armed advanced rapidly towards the party.
They all stopped to watch the movements of
the police agents, and inquire among
themselves the cause of their arrival. In a few
more seconds the gendarmes had come up to
the group, and, having given the bride a
military salute in passing, stopped and divided
into two parties. Each of these two parties,
then simultaneously seizing by the arm, the
bridegroom, Jules Delorme, and the
bridegroom's father, Jean Delorme, exclaimed:

"We arrest you in the name of the king!"

"What for?" indignantly asked Jules,
shaking off the three men who held him.

"For murdering Eugène Gay, and setting
fire to his house," was the reply; " here is
our warrant duly signed and stamped."

"But why is my father arrested?"

"As your accomplice."

"We are both innocent!" Jules protested.
"There is some grievous mistake here!"