May." "What is your profession?" "I am--that is, I was--cashier in M. Andre Fauvel's bank." The judge stopped to consult a little memorandum lying on his desk. Prosper, who followed attentively his every movement, began to be hopeful, saying to himself that never would a man so unprejudiced have the cruelty to send him to prison again. After finding what he looked for, M. Patrigent resumed the examination. "Where do you live?" "At No. 39, Rue Chaptal, for the last four years. Before that time I lived at No. 7, Boulevard des Batignolles." "Where were you born?" "At Beaucaire in the Department of the Gard." "Are your parents living?" "My mother died two years ago; my father is still living." "Does he live in Paris?" "No, monsieur: he lives at Beaucaire with my sister, who married one of the engineers of the Southern Canal." 

It was in broken tones that Prosper answered these last questions. There are moments in the life of a man when home memories encourage and console him; there are also moments when he would be thankful to be without a single tie, and bitterly regrets that he is not alone in the world. M. Patrigent observed the prisoner's emotion when he spoke of his parents. "What is your father's calling?" he continued. "He was formerly superintendent of the bridges and canals; then he was employed on the Southern Canal, with my brother-in-law; now he has retired from business." 

There was a moment's silence. The judge had turned his chair around, so that, although his head was apparently averted, he had a good view of the workings of Prosper's face. "Well," he said, abruptly, "you are accused of having robbed M. Fauvel of three hundred and fifty thousand francs." During the last twenty-four hours the wretched young man had had time to familiarize himself with the terrible idea of this accusation; and yet, uttered as it was in this formal, brief tone, it seemed to strike him with a horror which rendered him incapable of opening his lips. "What have you to answer?" asked the judge. 

"That I am innocent, monsieur; I swear that I am innocent!" "I hope you are," said M. Patrigent, "and you may count upon me to assist you to the extent of my ability in proving your innocence. You must have a defense, some facts to state; have you not?" "Ah, monsieur, what can I say, when I cannot understand this dreadful business myself? I can only refer you to my past life." 

The judge interrupted him: "Let us be specific; the robbery was committed under circumstances that prevent suspicion from falling upon anyone but M. Fauvel and yourself. Do you suspect anyone else?" "No, 

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