“Do I deny it?” she said with terrible accents; and she rose with flashing eyes.

The president continued squarely, —

“Then how do you explain the facts laid to your charge?”

She replied in a broken voice, —

“I have already told you. I do not know. ‘Twas a priest, a priest whom I do not know; an infernal priest who pursues me!”

“That is it,” retorted the judge; “the surly monk.”

“Oh, gentlemen! have mercy! I am but a poor girl — “

“Of Egypt,” said the judge.

Master Jacques Charmolue interposed sweetly, —