I may
name him, for he is beyond the reach of the law now: it was Claperon,
the jailer, who, in a fit of jealousy, had himself killed Alphonse de
Bellefonds."
"But--but there were three," gasped Antoine.
"Yes, a miserable idiot, who had been so long in confinement for a
murder that he was forgotten by the authorities, was substituted for
me. At length I obtained, through the assistance of my sister, the
position of _concierge_ in the Hotel Marboeuf, in the Rue Grange
Bateliere. I entered on my new place yesterday evening, and was desired
to awaken the gentleman on the third floor at seven o'clock. When I
entered the room to do so, you were asleep; but before I had time to
speak, you awoke, and I recognized your features in the glass. Knowing
that I could not vindicate my innocence if you chose to seize me, I
fled, and seeing an omnibus starting for St. Denis, I got on it with
a vague idea of getting on to Calais and crossing the Channel to England.
But having only a franc or two in my pocket, or indeed in the world,
I did not know how to procure the means of going forward; and whilst
I was lounging about the place, forming first one plan and then another,
I saw you in the church, and, concluding that you were in pursuit of
me, I thought the best way of eluding your vigilance was to make my
way back to Paris as fast as I could; so I set off instantly, and walked
all the way; but having no money to pay my night's lodging, I came here
to borrow a couple of livres of my sister Claudine, who is a _brodeuse_
and resides _au cinquieme_.
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