In a long experience I have never seen a better performance--have
you, monsieur?" he added to M. Fille.
"But once," was the pointed and deliberate reply. "Ah, when was that?"
asked Judge Carcasson, interested.
"The year monsieur le juge was ill, and Judge Blaquiere took your place.
It was in Vilray at the Court House here."
"Ah--ah, and who was the phenomenon--the perfect liar?" asked the Judge
with the eagerness of the expert.
"His name was Sebastian Dolores," meditatively replied M. Fille. "It was
even a finer performance than that of to-day."
The Judge gave a little grunt of surprise. "Twice, eh?" he asked. "Yet
this was good enough to break any record," he added. He fastened the
young widow's eyes. "Madame, you are young, and you have an eye of
intelligence. Be sure of this: you can protect yourself against almost
anyone except a liar--eh, madame?" he added to Mere Langlois. "I am sure
your experience of life and your good sense--"
"My good sense would make me think purgatory was hell if I saw him"--she
nodded savagely at Dolores as she said it, for she had seen that last
effort of his to take the fingers of Palass Poucette's widow--"if I saw
him there, m'sieu' le juge."
"We'll have you yet--we'll have you yet, Dolores," said the Judge, as the
Spaniard prepared to move on. But, as Dolores went, he again caught the
eyes of the young widow.
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