"Look you, Master Clerk," cried Aubry; "what the deuce are you reading from?"
"The complainant's deposition."
"Impossible!"
"Is it so written?" inquired the magistrate.
"It is written."
"Go on."
"After all," said Aubry aside, "the more guilty I am, the surer I shall be of being sent to join Ascanio at the Châtelet. Intoxicating decoction it is. Go on, Master Clerk."
"You confess, do you?" queried the judge.
"I confess," said the student.
"Ah, gallows-bird!" exclaimed the judge, roaring with laughter, and rubbing his hands.