"
No one made any reply. In the opinion of all his listeners,
Ferdinand was simply fulfilling a duty which it would have been
difficult for him to escape. The old gentleman who had decided
the suspension and the resumption of the game, gave audible
expression to the prevailing sentiment of the party. He was a
portly man, who puffed like a porpoise when he talked, and whom
his companions called the baron. "Your words do you honor--really
do you honor," he said, addressing Ferdinand--"and no possible
blame can attach to you. That your friend is not an honest man is
no fault of yours. There is no outward sign to distinguish
scoundrels."
Pascal had so far not opened his lips. After struggling for a
moment in the hands of his captors, he now stood perfectly
motionless, glancing furiously around him as if hoping to discover
the coward who had prepared the trap into which he had fallen.
For he felt certain that he was the victim of some atrocious
conspiracy, though it was impossible for him to divine what motive
had actuated his enemies. Suddenly those who were holding him
felt him tremble. He raised his head; he fancied he could detect
a ray of hope. "Shall I be allowed to speak in my own defence?"
he asked.
"Speak!"
He tried to free himself; but those beside him would not relax
their hold, so he desisted, and then, in a voice husky with
emotion, he exclaimed: "I am innocent! I am the victim of an
infamous plot.
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