easy to see in all this a premeditation of the crime? It was further proved that D'Anglade knew, from M. de Montgomery himself, that he had received and kept in his rooms a considerable sum of money.
In addition to all this, D'Anglade's life seemed to be enveloped in a mystery which no efforts could clear up; he called himself a gentleman, but he could furnish no information as to his family. He lived expensively, and he could show that he possessed only an income of nineteen hundred and fifty livres. Were these resources sufficient for the style of living in which he indulged? It must be that he had some secret string to his bow,—gambling, swindling, or robbery.
On the 19th of January, 1688, the ordinary and extraordinary question was applied to D'Anglade. Torture could tear no confession from him, although he was naturally weak and feeble. All these efforts proving unavailing, on the 16th of February the unfortunate man was condemned to the galleys for nine years. As for the poor wife, she was condemned to banishment for the same term of years. The two were also ordered to replace the jewels and the money stolen, and to pay the Count three thousand livres.
We may mention that the judgment, giving the prisoners the benefit of a doubt, did not declare the DAnglades atteints et convainçus of having committed the robbery, but only strongly suspected. The first formula would have necessitated a sentence of death.
Broken down by the torture, D'Anglade was taken back to his cell, and, a few hours later, was transferred to the darkest and most frightful dungeon of that tower which bore—a strange coincidence—the name of Montgomery. From this tower he was taken, almost lifeless, to the Château de la Tournelle, the last resting-place for convicts before reaching the galleys; there he was to await the departure of the chain.
He lived there, as all convicts did at that time, subsisting upon public charity. Struck down by a serious illness, considering that his last hour had arrived, he received the viaticum, protested anew his innocence, pardoned his enemies and his judges, and prepared for death.
But death did not come. D'Anglade was destined to undergo new trials. When the hour for the departure arrived, it was necessary to carry him on a cart and attach him, almost insensible, to the chain.
The Count de Montgomery, it is said, had the cruelty to be present at this sad spectacle. He witnessed the departure of the chain, and it was upon his urgent insistence that the unfortunate man was forwarded to the galleys in this pitiable state.
D'Anglade dragged out for some time longer his miserable existence. It was not until the 4th of March, 1689, that God granted an end to his sufferings. Transported to Marseilles, he died in the prisoners' hospital after, for a last time, calling upon God to witness his innocence.
It seemed that D'Anglade's death was the term providentially assigned to the error which had killed him. Scarcely had he expired when certain anonymous letters were put in circulation The writer said that before retiring to a cloister, in expiation of his sins, he felt himself obliged, to ease his conscience, to declare that D'Anglade was innocent of the crime for which he had been condemned; that the real authors of the robbery were one Vincent called Belestre, the son of a tanner at Mans, and the almoner of the Count de Montgomery. A woman named De la Comble, these letters stated, could furnish more precise information.
These anonymous statements caused an investigation to be made as to the antecedents of this almoner of the Count, who was named Francois Gagnard. It was found that he was from Mans as well as Belestre; it was ascertained that he was absolutely without resources at the time M. Montgomery took him into his service. If the Count had made any inquiries regarding his moral character, he would have learned that Gagnard, the son of the jailer of the prison at Mans,
