At first, she had declared that she did not know the accused persons summoned to appear that day, the Cooper in particular; to tell the truth, she had made a mistake; she did know them, through having met them a long time ago, when she lived near la Chapelle; so long ago was it that she had forgotten all about it! Anyhow, she wanted to have done with the business!

From the very beginning of the trial, Mother Toulouche had been disagreeably struck by the inquisitorial glances and pointed questions of the Public Prosecutor throughout the proceedings. Now, in her turn, the old storekeeper was questioning her audience, trying hard to find out what would be the probable attitude of the magistrate, when she herself should be summoned to the witness-box.

“Witness!... Mother Toulouche!”

Fandor smiled as he listened to the loquacious old store-keeper, for he knew how much faith was to be put in her veracity and respectability!... It was pretty clear that she was every whit as guilty as the handcuffed individuals now in the dock. As she had not been arrested, it simply meant that, in Juve’s opinion, this was not an opportune moment to put a stopper on the nefarious activities of this rotten old woman.At this precise moment, Fandor recognised Juve.

He was leaving a group of barristers and officials, who had been hugely entertained by his stupid answers and remarks. Yes, it was Juve, so admirably made up and disguised that Fandor had difficulty in recognising him.

Here was Cranajour on the scene! He approached Mother Toulouche and stood there – a Cranajour who was the picture of gaping imbecility!

“You too?” cried Mother Toulouche, looking askance at him. “Are you one of the witnesses?” Cranajour’s reply was a comical grimace. He scratched his beard, remarking finally:

“I’ve forgotten! I don’t know!”

The listeners burst into roars of laughter: Fandor laughed loudest of all!

One of Maître Henri Robart’s juniors whispered in Fandor’s ear, with an air of giving the journalist a piece of information worth having.

“A simple-minded soul, that! – a kind of idiot! You can guess that, at the preliminary inquiry, they soon found that out!... He may be heard – or he may not.” Fandor nodded. He found it difficult not to laugh.

“Many thanks for the information,” he stammered.

The young barrister did not understand the ironic tone of the journalist.

Mother Toulouche was envying Cranajour.

“You’re in luck, you are – to be too silly to go and talk to those inquisitive fellows in there! Eh?” Conversations stopped. The little low door, giving entrance to the court, had just opened: an usher announced:

“The case is resumed! Witnesses this way! The old woman Toulouche? It is your turn!”

They jostled and pushed their way through the narrow entrance in order to get into the court room quickly.