an appearance of the wildest disorder. The furniture had been knocked
over, and the sheets, to which the unfortunate jeweler had clung, were
dragged across the room: the murdered man lay on the ground, his
head leaning against the wall, weltering in a gory stream, poured forth
from three large wounds in his breast; there was a fourth gash, in which a large table-knife was still sticking.
"I stumbled over the second pistol, which had not gone off, probably from the powder being wet. I approached the jeweler, who was not quite dead, and at the sound of my footsteps, causing, as they did, the creaking of the floor, he opened his eyes, fixed them on me with an anxious and inquiring gaze, moved his lips as though trying to speak, and then expired.
"This appalling sight almost bereft me of my senses, and finding that I could no longer be of service, my only desire was to fly. I rushed toward the staircase, clasping my temples with both hands, and uttering cries of horror.
"Upon reaching the room below, I found five or six custom-house officers, accompanied by an armed troop of soldiery, who immediately seized me, ere, indeed, I had sufficiently collected my ideas to offer any resistance; in truth, my senses seemed to have wholly forsaken me, and when I strove to speak, a few inarticulate sounds alone escaped my lips.
"As I noticed the significant manner in which the whole party pointed to my blood-stained garments, I involuntarily surveyed myself, and then I discovered that the thick warm drops that had so bedewed me as I lay beneath the staircase must have been the blood of La Carconte. Paralyzed with horror, I could barely indicate by a movement of my hand the spot where I had concealed myself.
"'What does he mean!' asked a gendarme.
"One of the douaniers went to the place I directed.
"'He means,' replied the man upon his return, 'that he effected his entrance by means of this hole,' showing the place where I had broken my way through the planks into the house.
"Then, and not before, the true nature of my situation flashed on me, and I saw that I was considered the guilty author of all that had occurred. With this frightful conviction of my danger, I recovered force and energy enough to free myself from the hands of those who held me, while I managed to stammer forth:
"'I did not do it! Indeed, indeed I did riot!'
"A couple of gendarmes held the muzzles of their carbines against my breast.
"'Stir but a step,' said they, 'and you are a dead man!'
"'Why should you threaten me with death,' cried I, 'when I have already declared my innocence?'
