“Where were you going?” asked the magistrate.
For the first time a real embarrassment appeared in the features of the
accused,--the embarrassment of a man who suddenly sees an abyss opening
before him. He hesitated; and, seeing that it was useless to deny, he
said,--
“I was going to Brechy.”
“To whom?”
“To my wood-merchant, who has bought all this year’s wood. I did not
find him at home, and came back on the high road.”