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"No," answered Hauteville with a grim smile, "he didn't go in the second cabin, he went in the steerage!" "In the steerage!" she murmured aghast. "And during the five or six months here in Paris, while he was dancing attendance on you, he was practically without resources." "I know better," she insisted; "he took me out all the time and spent money freely." The judge shook his head.
And, without more difficulty, the test began, Hauteville speaking the prepared words and handling the stop watch while Coquenil, sitting beside him, wrote down the answered words and the precise time intervals. First, they established Groener's average or normal time of reply when there was no emotion or mental effort involved.
By the reports of their victories and good fortune, troops of pilgrims and warriors were attracted to join them. The valiant sons of the old count, Tancred of Hauteville, were among the number. They supported the Greek viceroy in an attack on the Arabs in Sicily; but, on his failing duly to reward them, they turned against him, and conquered Apulia for themselves.
But the prisoner remained impassive. "Did you expect to see this man here?" the magistrate asked her. "Oh, no," she shivered. "No one had told you you might see him?" "No one." The judge turned to Coquenil. "You did not prepare her for this meeting in any way?" "No," said M. Paul. "What is your name?" said Hauteville to the girl. "Alice Groener," she answered simply. "And this man's name?"
Believe me, dear Sir Carte, 'Your faithful servant, 'St. James. 'Carlstein bears this, which you will receive in an hour. Let me have a line by return. The Charms of Hauteville IT WAS a morning all dew and sunshine, soft yet bright, just fit for a hawking party, for dames of high degree, feathered cavaliers, ambling palfreys, and tinkling bells. Our friends rose early, and assembled punctually.
Behind the latter, and upon even higher ground at a distance of two and three miles, respectively lay the villages of Daix and Hauteville. It was about ten o'clock in the morning that the boys heard the faint boom of a cannon. "Listen, papa," Percy shouted; "there are cannon. The Prussians are attacking the heights, on the other side."
"You're a judge," he said in a strained, tense voice, "and I'm a prisoner; you have all the power and I have none, but there's something back of that, something we both have, I mean a common manhood, and you know, if you have any sense of honor, that no man has a right to ask another man that question." "The point is well taken," approved Maître Pleindeaux. "Two minutes!" said Hauteville coldly.
"I pass to another point," resumed Hauteville, who was now striding back and forth with quick turns and sudden stops, his favorite manner of attack. "You say you had no quarrel with Martinez?" A shade of anxiety crossed Lloyd's face, and he looked appealingly at his counsel, who nodded with a consequential smack of the lips. "Is that true?" repeated the judge. "Why er yes."
And a little later came M. Hauteville, the judge in charge of the case, a cold, severe figure, handsome in his younger days, but soured, it was said, by social disappointments and ill health. He was in evening dress, having been summoned posthaste from the theater.
The police arrived rather late on the scene, but were speedily quieted by assurances that peace was restored, and by the transfer of a few coins from Alan Walcott's pockets to their own. The aggressor, who gave his name as Henri de Hauteville, was politely requested to leave the Hôtel Venat; and Mr. Walcott declared his own intention of proceeding to Paris next morning.
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