Within an Inch of His Life

by Emile Gaboriau

  XV.

  During all this time, they were suffering intense anxiety at M. deChandore's house. Ever since eight o'clock in the morning the two aunts,the old gentleman, the marchioness, and M. Folgat had been assembled inthe dining-room, and were there waiting for the result of the interview.Dionysia had only come down later; and her grandfather could not helpnoticing that she had dressed more carefully than usual.

  "Are we not going to see Jacques again?" she replied with a smile fullof confidence and joy.

  She had actually persuaded herself that one word from Jacques wouldsuffice to convince the celebrated lawyer, and that he would reappeartriumphant on M. Magloire's arm. The others did not share theseexpectations. The two aunts, looking as yellow as their old laces, satimmovable in a corner. The marchioness was trying to hide her tears; andM. Folgat endeavored to look absorbed in a volume of engravings. M. deChandore, who possessed less self-control, walked up and down in theroom, repeating every ten minutes,--

  "It is wonderful how long time seems when you are waiting!"

  At ten o'clock no news had come.

  "Could M. Magloire have forgotten his promise?" said Dionysia, becominganxious.

  "No, he has not forgotten it," replied a newcomer, M. Seneschal. Itwas really the excellent mayor, who had met M. Magloire about an hourbefore, and who now came to hear the news, for his own sake, as he said,but especially for his wife's sake, who was actually ill with anxiety.

  Eleven o'clock, and no news. The marchioness got up, and said,--

  "I cannot stand this uncertainty a minute longer. I am going to theprison."

  "And I will go with you, dear mother," declared Dionysia.

  But such a proceeding was hardly suitable. M. de Chandore opposed it,and was supported by M. Folgat, as well as by M. Seneschal.

  "We might at least send somebody," suggested the two aunts timidly.

  "That is a good idea," replied M. de Chandore.

  He rang the bell; and old Anthony came in. He had established himselfthe evening before in Sauveterre, having heard that the preliminaryinvestigation was finished.

  As soon as he had been told what they wanted him to do, he said,--

  "I shall be back in half an hour."

  He nearly ran down the steep street, hastened along National Street, andthen climbed up more slowly Castle Street. When M. Blangin, the keeper,saw him appear, he turned very pale; for M. Blangin had not slept sinceDionysia had given him the seventeen thousand francs. He, once upon atime the special friend of all gendarmes, now trembled when one of thementered the jail. Not that he felt any remorse about having betrayed hisduty; oh, no! but he feared discovery.

  More than ten times he had changed the hiding-place of his preciousstocking; but, wherever he put it, he always fancied that the eyes ofhis visitors were riveted upon that very spot. He recovered, however,from his fright when Anthony told him his errand, and replied in themost civil manner,--

  "M. Magloire came here at nine o'clock precisely. I took him immediatelyto M. de Boiscoran's cell; and ever since they have been talking,talking."

  "Are you quite sure?"

  "Of course I am. Must I not know every thing that happens in my jail? Iwent and listened. You can hear nothing from the passage: they have shutthe wicket, and the door is massive."

  "That is strange," murmured the old servant.

  "Yes, and a bad sign," declared the keeper with a knowing air. "I havenoticed that the prisoners who take so long to state their case to theiradvocate always catch the maximum of punishment."

  Anthony, of course, did not report to his masters the jailer's mournfulanticipations; but what he told them about the length of the interviewdid not tend to relieve their anxiety.

  Gradually the color had faded from Dionysia's cheeks; and the clear ringof her voice was half drowned in tears, when she said, that it wouldhave been better, perhaps, if she had put on mourning, and that seeingthe whole family assembled thus reminded her of a funeral.

  The sudden arrival of Dr. Seignebos cut short her remarks. He was in agreat passion, as usual; and as soon as he entered, he cried,--

  "What a stupid town Sauveterre is! Nothing but gossip and idle reports!The people are all of them old women. I feel like running away, andhiding myself. On my way here, twenty curious people have stopped me toask me what M. de Boiscoran is going to do now. For the town is full ofrumors. They know that Magloire is at the jail now; and everybody wantsto be the first to hear Jacques's story."

  He had put his immense broad brimmed hat on the table, and, lookingaround the room at all the sad faces he asked,--

  "And you have no news yet?"

  "Nothing," replied M. Seneschal and M. Folgat at the same breath.

  "And we are frightened by this delay," added Dionysia.

  "And why?" asked the physician.

  Then taking down his spectacles, and wiping them diligently, he said,--

  "Did you think, my dear young lady, that Jacques de Boiscoran's affaircould be settled in five minutes? If they let you believe that, they didwrong. I, who despise all concealment, I will tell you the truth. At thebottom of all these occurrences at Valpinson, there lies, I am perfectlysure, some dark intrigue. Most assuredly we shall put Jacques out of histrouble; but I fear it will be hard work."

  "M. Magloire!" announced old Anthony.

  The eminent advocate of Sauveterre entered. He looked so undone, andbore so evidently the traces of his excitement, that all had the sameterrible thought which Dionysia expressed.

  "Jacques is lost!"

  M. Magloire did not say no.

  "I believe he is in danger."

  "Jacques," murmured the old marchioness,--"my son!"

  "I said in danger," repeated the advocate; "but I ought to have said, heis in a strange, almost incredible, unnatural position."

  "Let us hear," said the marchioness.

  The lawyer was evidently very much embarrassed; and he looked withunmistakable distress, first at Dionysia, and then at the two old aunts.But nobody noticed this, and so he said,--

  "I must ask to be left alone with these gentlemen."

  In the most docile manner the Misses Lavarande rose, and took theirniece and Jacques's mother with them: the latter was evidently nearfainting. As soon as the door was shut, Grandpapa Chandore, half madwith grief, exclaimed,--

  "Thanks, M. Magloire, thanks for having given me time to prepare my poorchild for the terrible blow. I see but too well what you are going tosay. Jacques is guilty."

  "Stop," said the advocate: "I have said nothing of the kind. M. deBoiscoran still protests energetically that he is innocent; but hestates in his defence a fact which is so entirely improbable, so utterlyinadmissible"--

  "But what does he say?" asked M. Seneschal.

  "He says that the Countess Claudieuse has been his mistress."

  Dr. Seignebos started, and, readjusting his spectacles, he criedtriumphantly,--

  "I said so! I have guessed it!"

  M. Folgat had, on this occasion, very naturally, no deliberative voice.He came from Paris, with Paris ideas; and, whatever he might have beentold, the name of the Countess Claudieuse revealed to him nothing. But,from the effect which it produced upon the others, he could judge whatJacques's accusation meant. Far from being of the doctor's opinion M.de Chandore and M. Seneschal both seemed to be as much shocked as M.Magloire.

  "That is incredible," said one.

  "That is impossible," added the other.

  M. Magloire shook his head, and said,--

  "That is exactly what I told Jacques."

  But the doctor was not the man to be surprised at what public opinionsaid, much less to fear it. He exclaimed,--

  "Don't you hear what I say? Don't you understand me? The proof thatthe thing is neither so incredible nor so impossible is, that I hadsuspected it. And there were signs of it, I should think. Why on earthshould a man like Jacques, young, rich, well made, in love with acharming girl, and beloved by her, why should he amuse himself withs
etting houses on fire, and killing people? You tell me he did notlike Count Claudieuse. Upon my word! If everybody who does not like Dr.Seignebos were to come and fire at him forthwith, do you know my bodywould look like a sieve! Among you all, M. Folgat is the only one whohas not been struck with blindness."

  The young lawyer tried modestly to protest.

  "Sir"--

  But the other cut him short, and went on,--

  "Yes, sir, you saw it all; and the proof of it is, that you at once wentto work in search of the real motive, the heart,--in fine, the woman atthe bottom of the riddle. The proof of it is, that you went and askedeverybody,--Anthony, M. de Chandore, M. Seneschal, and myself,--if M. deBoiscoran had not now, or had not had, some love-affair in the country.They all said No, being far from suspecting the truth. I alone, withoutgiving you a positive answer, told you that I thought as you did, andtold you so in M. de Chandore's presence."

  "That is so!" replied the old gentleman and M. Folgat.

  Dr. Seignebos was triumphant. Gesticulating, and continually handlinghis spectacles, he added,--

  "You see I have learnt to mistrust appearances; and hence I had mymisgivings from the beginning. I watched the Countess Claudieuse thenight of the fire; and I saw that she looked embarrassed, troubled,suspicious. I wondered at her readiness to yield to M. Galpin's whim,and to allow Cocoleu to be examined; for I knew that she was the onlyone who could ever make that so-called idiot talk. You see I have goodeyes, gentlemen, in spite of my spectacles. Well, I swear by all I holdmost sacred, on my Republican faith, I am ready to affirm upon oath,that, when Cocoleu uttered Jacques de Boiscoran's name, the countessexhibited no sign of surprise."

  Never before, in their life, had the mayor of Sauveterre and Dr.Seignebos been able to agree on any subject. This question was notlikely to produce such an effect all of a sudden: hence M. Seneschalsaid,--

  "I was present at Cocoleu's examination, and I noticed, on the contrary,the amazement of the countess."

  The doctor raised his shoulders, and said,--

  "Certainly she said, 'Ah!' But that is no proof. I, also, could veryeasily say, 'Ah!' if anybody should come and tell me that the mayor ofSauveterre was in the wrong; and still I should not be surprised."

  "Doctor!" said M. de Chandore, anxious to conciliate,--"doctor!"

  But Dr. Seignebos had already turned to M. Magloire, whom he was anxiousto convert, and went on,--

  "Yes, the face of the Countess Claudieuse, expressed amazement; but hereyes spoke of bitter, fierce hatred, of joy, and of vengeance. And thatis not all. Will you please tell me, Mr. Mayor, when Count Claudieusewas roused by the fire, was the countess by him? No, she was nursing heryoungest daughter, who had the measles. Hm! What do you think of measleswhich make sitting up at night necessary? And when the two shots werefired, where was the countess then? Still with her daughter, and on theother side of the house from where the fire was."

  The mayor of Sauveterre was no less obstinate than the doctor. He atonce objected,--

  "I beg you will notice, doctor, that Count Claudieuse himself deposedhow, when he ran to the fire, he found the door shut from within, justas he had left it a few hours before."

  Dr. Seignebos returned a most ironical bow, and then asked,--

  "Is there really only one door in the chateau at Valpinson?"

  "To my knowledge," said M. de Chandore, "there are at least three."

  "And I must say," added M. Magloire, "that according to M. deBoiscoran's statement, the countess, on that evening, had gone out bythe laundry-door when she came to meet him."

  "What did I say?" exclaimed the doctor.

  And, wiping his glasses in a perfect rage, he added,--

  "And the children! Does Mr. Mayor think it natural that the CountessClaudieuse, this incomparable mother in his estimation, should forgether children in the height of the fire?"

  "What! The poor woman is called out by the discharge of fire-arms;she sees her house on fire; she stumbles over the lifeless body of herhusband: and you blame her for not having preserved all her presence ofmind."

  "That is one view of it; but it is not the one I take. I rather thinkthat the countess, having been delayed out of doors, was prevented bythe fire from getting in again. I think, also, that Cocoleu came veryopportunely; and that it was very lucky Providence should inspire hismind with that sublime idea of saving the children at the risk of hislife."

  This time M. Seneschal made no reply.

  "Supported by all these facts," continued the doctor, "my suspicionsbecame so strong that I determined to ascertain the truth, if I could.The next day I questioned the countess, and, I must confess, rathertreacherously. Her replies and her looks were not such as to modifymy views. When I asked her, looking straight into her eyes, what shethought of Cocoleu's mental condition, she nearly fainted; and shecould hardly make me hear her when she said that she occasionally caughtglimpses of intelligence in him. When I asked her if Cocoleu was fond ofher, she said, in a most embarrassed manner, that his devotion was thatof an animal which is grateful for the care taken of him. What do youthink of that, gentlemen? To me it appeared that Cocoleu was at thebottom of the whole affair; that he knew the truth; and that I shouldbe able to save Jacques, if I could prove Cocoleu's imbecility to beassumed, and his speechlessness to be an imposture. And I would haveproved it, if they had associated with me any one else but this ass andthis jackanapes from Paris."

  He paused for a few seconds; but, without giving anybody time to reply,he went on,--

  "Now, let us go back to our point of departure, and draw ourconclusions. Why do you think it so improbable and impossible that thecountess Claudieuse should have betrayed her duties? Because she has aworld-wide reputation for purity and prudence. Well. But was not Jacquesde Boiscoran's reputation as a man of honor also above all doubt?According to your views, it is absurd to suspect the countess of havinghad a lover. According to my notions, it is absurd that Jacques should,overnight, have become a scoundrel."

  "Oh! that is not the same thing," said M. Seneschal.

  "Certainly not!" replied the doctor; "and there you are right, for once.If M. de Boiscoran had committed this crime, it would be one of thoseabsurd crimes which are revolting to us; but, if committed by thecountess, it is only the catastrophe prepared by Count Claudieuse on theday when he married a woman thirty years younger than he was."

  The great wrath of Dr. Seignebos was not always as formidable as itlooked. Even when he appeared to be almost beside himself, he neversaid more than he intended to say, possessed as he was of that admirablesouthern quality, which enabled him to pour forth fire and flames, andto remain as cold as ice within, But in this case he showed what hethought fully. He had said quite enough, too, and had presented thewhole affair under such a new aspect, that his friends became verythoughtful.

  "You would have converted me, doctor," said M. Folgat, "if I had notbeen of your opinion before."

  "I am sure," added M. de Chandore, after hearing the doctor, "the thingno longer looks impossible."

  "Nothing is impossible," said M. Seneschal, like a philosopher.

  The eminent advocate of Sauveterre alone remained unmoved.

  "Well," said he, "I had rather admit one hour of utter insanity eventhan five years of such monstrous hypocrisy. Jacques may have committedthe crime, and be nothing but a madman; but, if the countess is guilty,one might despair of mankind, and renounce all faith in this world. Ihave seen her, gentlemen, with her husband and her children. No one canfeign such looks of tenderness and affection."

  "He will never give her up!" growled Dr. Seignebos,--

  And touching his friend on the shoulder,--for M. Magloire had been hisfriend for many years, and they were quite intimate,--he said,--

  "Ah! There I recognize my friend, the strange lawyer, who judges othersby himself, and refuses to believe any thing bad. Oh, do not protest!For we love and honor you for that very faith, and are proud to see youamong us Republicans. But I must confess you are not the
man to bringlight into such a dark intrigue. At twenty-eight you married a girlwhom you loved dearly: you lost her, and ever since you have remainedfaithful to her memory, and lived so far from all passions that you nolonger believe in their existence. Happy man! Your heart is still attwenty; and with your grey hair you still believe in the smiles andlooks of woman."

  There was much truth in this; but there are certain truths which we arenot overfond of hearing.

  "My simplicity has nothing to do with the matter," said M. Magloire. "Iaffirm and maintain that a man who has been for five years the lover ofa woman must have some proof of it."

  "Well, there you are mistaken, master," said the physician, arranginghis spectacles with an air of self-conceit, which, under othercircumstances, would have been irresistibly ludicrous.

  "When women determine to be prudent and suspicious," remarked M. deChandore, "they never are so by halves."

  "It is evident, besides," added M. Folgat, "that the Countess Claudieusewould never have determined upon so bold a crime, if she had not beenquite sure, that after the burning of her letters, no proof could bebrought against her."

  "That is it!" cried the doctor.

  M. Magloire did not conceal his impatience. He said dryly,--

  "Unfortunately, gentlemen, it does not depend on you to acquit orcondemn M. de Boiscoran. I am not here to convince you, or to beconvinced: I came to discuss with M. de Boiscoran's friends our line ofconduct, and the basis of our defence."

  And M. Magloire was evidently right in this estimate of his duty. Hewent and leaned against the mantelpiece; and, when the others had takentheir seats around him, he began,--

  "In the first place, I will admit the allegations made by M. deBoiscoran. He is innocent. He has been the lover of Countess Claudieuse;but he has no proof. This being granted, what is to be done? Shall Iadvise him to send for the magistrate, and to confess it all?"

  No one replied at first. It was only after a long silence that Dr.Seignebos said,--

  "That would be very serious."

  "Very serious, indeed," repeated the famous lawyer. "Our own feelingsgive us the measure of what M. Galpin will think. First of all, he,also, will ask for proof, the evidence of a witness, any thing, in fact.And, when Jacques tells him that he has nothing to give but his word, M.Galpin will tell him that he does not speak the truth."

  "He might, perhaps, consent to extend the investigation," said M.Seneschal. "He might possibly summon the countess."

  M. Magloire nodded, and said,--

  "He would certainly summon her. But, then, would she confess? Itwould be madness to expect that. If she is guilty, she is far toostrong-minded to let the truth escape her. She would deny every thing,haughtily, magnificently, and in such a manner as not to leave a shadowof doubt."

  "That is only too probable," growled the doctor. "That poor Galpin isnot the strongest of men."

  "What would be the result of such a step?" asked M. Magloire. "M. deBoiscoran's case would be a hundred times worse; for to his crime wouldnow be added the odium of the meanest, vilest calumny."

  M. Folgat was following with the utmost attention. He said,--

  "I am very glad to hear my honorable colleague give utterance to thatopinion. We must give up all hope of delaying the proceedings, and letM. de Boiscoran go into court at once."

  M. de Chandore raised his hands to heaven, as if in sheer despair.

  "But Dionysia will die of grief and shame," he exclaimed.

  M. Magloire, absorbed in his own views, went on,--

  "Well, here we are now before the court at Sauveterre, before a jurycomposed of people from this district, incapable of prevarication, Iam sure, but, unfortunately, under the influence of that public opinionwhich has long since condemned M. de Boiscoran. The proceedings begin;the judge questions the accused. Will he say what he told me,--that,after having been the lover of the Countess Claudieuse, he had gone toValpinson to carry her back her letters, and to get his own, and thatthey are all burnt? Suppose he says so. Immediately then there willarise a storm of indignation; and he will be overwhelmed with cursesand with contempt. Well, thereupon, the president of the court uses hisdiscretionary powers, suspends the trial, and sends for the CountessClaudieuse. Since we look upon her as guilty, we must needs endow herwith supernatural energy. She had foreseen what is coming, and has readover her part. When summoned, she appears, pale, dressed in black; anda murmur of respectful sympathy greets her at her entrance. You see herbefore you, don't you? The president explains to her why she has beensent for, and she does not comprehend. She cannot possibly comprehendsuch an abominable calumny. But when she has comprehended it? Do you seethe lofty look by which she crushes Jacques, and the grandeur with whichshe replies, 'When this man had failed in trying to murder my husband,he tried to disgrace his wife. I intrust to you my honor as a motherand a wife, gentlemen. I shall not answer the infamous charges of thisabject calumniator.'"

  "But that means the galleys for Jacques," exclaimed M. de Chandore, "oreven the scaffold!"

  "That would be the maximum, at all events," replied the advocate ofSauveterre. "But the trial goes on; the prosecuting attorney demands anoverwhelming punishment; and at last the prisoner's council is calledupon to speak. Gentlemen, you were impatient at my persistence. I do notcredit, I confess, the statement made by M. de Boiscoran. But my youngcolleague here does credit it. Well, let him tell us candidly. Would hedare to plead this statement, and assert that the Countess Claudieusehad been Jacques's mistress?"

  M. Folgat looked annoyed.

  "I don't know," he said in an undertone.

  "Well, I know you would not," exclaimed M. Magloire; "and you would beright, for you would risk your reputation without the slightest chanceof saving Jacques. Yes, no chance whatever! For after all, let ussuppose, what can hardly be even supposed, you should prove that Jacqueshas told the truth, that he has been the lover of the countess. Whatwould happen then? They arrest the countess. Do they release M. deBoiscoran on that account? Certainly not! They keep him in prison, andsay to him. 'This woman has attempted her husband's life; but she hadbeen your mistress, and you are her accomplice.'

  "That is the situation, gentlemen!"

  M. Magloire had stripped it of all unnecessary comments, of idleconjecture, and all sentimental phraseology, and placed it before themas it had to be looked at, in all its fearful simplicity.

  Grandpapa Chandore was terrified. He rose, and said in an almostinaudible voice,--

  "Ah, all is over indeed! Innocent, or guilty, Jacques de Boiscoran willbe condemned."

  M. Magloire made no reply.

  "And that is," continued the old gentleman, "what you call justice!"

  "Alas!" sighed M. Seneschal, "it is useless to deny it: trials by juryare a lottery."

  M. de Chandore, driven nearly to madness by his despair, interruptedhim,--

  "In other words, Jacques's honor and life depend at this hour on achance,--on the weather on the day of the trial, or the health of ajuror. And if Jacques was the only one! But there is Dionysia's life,gentlemen, my child's life, also at stake. If you strike Jacques, youstrike Dionysia!"

  M. Folgat could hardly restrain a tear. M. Seneschal, and even thedoctor, shuddered at such grief in an old man, who was threatened in allthat was dearest to him,--in his one great love upon earth. He hadtaken the hand of the great advocate of Sauveterre, and, pressing itconvulsively, he went on,--

  "You will save him, Magloire, won't you? What does it matter whether hebe innocent or guilty, since Dionysia loves him? You have saved so manyin your life! It is well known the judges cannot resist the weight ofyour words. You will find means to save a poor, unhappy man who once wasyour friend."

  The eminent lawyer looked cast-down, as if he had been guilty himself.When Dr. Seignebos saw this, he exclaimed,--

  "What do you mean, friend Magloire? Are you no longer the man whosemarvellous eloquence is the pride of our country? Hold your head up: forshame! Never was a nobler cause intrusted to you.
"

  But he shook his head, and murmured,--

  "I have no faith in it; and I cannot plead when my conscience does notfurnish the arguments."

  And becoming more and more embarrassed, he added,--

  "Seignebos was right in saying just now, I am not the man for such acause. Here all my experience would be of no use. It will be better tointrust it to my young brother here."

  For the first time in his life, M. Folgat came here upon a case suchas enables a man to rise to eminence, and to open a great future beforehim. For the first time, he came upon a case in which were united allthe elements of supreme interest,--greatness of crime, eminenceof victim, character of the accused, mystery, variety of opinions,difficulty of defence, and uncertainty of issue,--one of those causesfor which an advocate is filled with enthusiasm, which he seizes uponwith all his energies, and in which he shares all the anxiety and allthe hopes with his client.

  He would readily have given five years' income to be offered themanagement of this case; but he was, above all, an honest man. He said,therefore,--

  "You would not think of abandoning M. de Boiscoran, M. Magloire?"

  "You will be more useful to him than I can be," was the reply.

  Perhaps M. Folgat was inwardly of the same opinion. Still he said,--

  "You have not considered what an effect this would have."

  "Oh!"

  "What would the public think if they heard all of a sudden that youhad withdrawn? 'This affair of M. de Boiscoran must be a very bad oneindeed,' they would say, 'that M. Magloire should refuse to plead init.' And that would be an additional burden laid upon the unfortunateman."

  The doctor gave his friend no time to reply.

  "Magloire is not at liberty to withdraw," he said, "but he has the rightto associate a brother-lawyer with himself. He must remain theadvocate and counsel of M. de Boiscoran; but M. Folgat can lend him theassistance of his advice, the support of his youth and his activity, andeven of his eloquence."

  A passing blush colored the cheeks of the young lawyer.

  "I am entirely at M. Magloire's service," he said.

  The famous advocate of Sauveterre considered a while. After a fewmoments he turned to his young colleague, and asked him,--

  "Have you any plan? Any idea? What would you do?"

  To the astonishment of all, M. Folgat now revealed his true characterto some extent. He looked taller, his face brightened up, his eyes shonebrightly, and he said in a full, sonorous voice,--a voice which by itsmetallic ring made all hearts vibrate,--

  "First of all, I should go and see M. de Boiscoran. He alone shoulddetermine my final decision. But my plan is formed now. I, gentlemen,I have faith, as I told you before. The man whom Miss Dionysia lovescannot be a criminal. What would I do? I would prove the truth of M.de Boiscoran's statement. Can that be done? I hope so. He tells usthat there are no proofs or witnesses of his intimacy with theCountess Claudieuse. I am sure he is mistaken. She has shown, he says,extraordinary care and prudence. That may be. But mistrust challengessuspicion; and, when you take the greatest precautions, you are mostlikely to be watched. You want to hide, and you are discovered. You seenobody; but they see you.

  "If I were charged with the defence, I should commence to-morrow acounter-investigation. We have money, the Marquis de Boiscoran hasinfluential connections; and we should have help everywhere. Beforeforty-eight hours are gone, I should have experienced agents at work.I know Vine Street in Passy: it is a lonely street; but it has eyes,as all streets have. Why should not some of these eyes have noticed themysterious visits of the countess? My agents would inquire from houseto house. Nor would it be necessary to mention names. They would notbe charged with a search after the Countess Claudieuse, but after anunknown lady, dressed so and so; and, if they should discover any onewho had seen her, and who could identify her, that man would be ourfirst witness.

  "In the meantime, I should go in search of this friend of M. deBoiscoran's, this Englishman, whose name he assumed; and the Londonpolice would aid me in my efforts. If that Englishman is dead, we wouldhear of it, and it would be a misfortune. If he is only at the other endof the world, the transatlantic cable enables us to question him, and tobe answered in a week.

  "I should, at the same time, have sent detectives after that Englishmaid-servant who attended to the house in Vine Street. M. de Boiscorandeclares that she has never even caught a glimpse of the countess. I donot believe it. It is out of question that a servant should not wish forthe means, and find them, of seeing the face of the woman who comes tosee her master.

  "And that is not all. There were other people who came to the house inVine Street. I should examine them one by one,--the gardener and hishelp, the water-carrier, the upholsterer, the errand-boys of all themerchants. Who can say whether one of them is not in possession of thistruth which we are seeking?

  "Finally, when a woman has spent so many days in a house, it is almostimpossible that she should not have left some traces of her passagebehind her. Since then, you will say, there has been the war, and thenthe commune. Nevertheless, I should examine the ruins, every tree in thegarden, every pane in the windows: I should compel the very mirrors thathave escaped destruction to give me back the image which they have sooften reflected."

  "Ah, I call that speaking!" cried the doctor, full of enthusiasm.

  The others trembled with excitement. They felt that the struggle wascommencing. But, unmindful of the impression he had produced, M. Folgatwent on,--

  "Here in Sauveterre, the task would be more difficult; but, in case ofsuccess, the result, also, would be more decided. I should bring downfrom Paris one of those keen, subtle detectives who have made an art oftheir profession, and I should know how to stimulate his vanity. He, ofcourse, would have to know every thing, even the names; but there wouldbe no danger in that. His desire to succeed, the splendor of the reward,even his professional habits, would be our security. He would come downsecretly, concealed under whatever disguise would appear to him mostuseful for his purpose; and he would begin once more, for the benefit ofthe defence, the investigation carried on by M. Galpin for the benefitof the prosecution. Would he find out any thing? We can but hope so. Iknow detectives, who, by the aid of smaller material, have unravelledfar deeper mysteries."

  Grandpapa Chandore, excellent M. Seneschal, Dr. Seignebos, and even M.Magloire, were literally drinking in the words of the Paris lawyer.

  "Is that all, gentlemen?" he continued. "By no means! Thanks tohis great experience, Dr. Seignebos had, on the very first day,instinctively guessed who was the most important personage of thismysterious drama."

  "Cocoleu!"

  "Exactly, Cocoleu. Whether he be actor, confident, or eye-witness,Cocoleu has evidently the key to this mystery. This key we must makeevery effort to obtain from him. Medical experts have just declared himidiotic; nevertheless, we protest. We claim that the imbecility of thiswretch is partly assumed. We maintain that his obstinate silence isa vile imposture. What! he should have intelligence enough to testifyagainst us, and yet not have left enough of it now to explain, or evento repeat his evidence? That is inadmissible. We maintain that he keepssilent now just as he spoke that night,--by order. If his silence wasless profitable for the prosecution, they would soon find means to breakit. We demand that such means should be employed. We demand that theperson who has before been able to loosen his tongue should be sentfor, and ordered to try the experiment over again. We call for anew examination by experts: we cannot judge all of a sudden, andin forty-eight hours, what is the true mental condition of a man,especially when that man is suspected of being an impostor. And werequire, above all, that these new experts should be qualified byknowledge and experience."

  Dr. Seignebos was quivering with excitement. He heard all his own ideasrepeated in a concise, energetic manner.

  "Yes," he cried, "that is the way to do it! Let me have full power, andin less than a fortnight Cocoleu is unmasked."

  Less expansive, the eminent advocat
e of Sauveterre simply shook handswith M. Folgat, and said,--

  "You see, M. de Boiscoran's case ought to be put in your hands."

  The young lawyer made no effort to protest. When he began to speak, hisdetermination was already formed.

  "Whatever can humanly be done," he replied, "I will do. If I accept thetask, I shall devote myself body and soul to it. But I insist upon it,it is understood, and must be publicly announced, that M. Magloire doesnot withdraw from the case, and that I act only as his junior."

  "Agreed," said the old advocate.

  "Well. When shall we go and see M. de Boiscoran?"

  "To-morrow morning."

  "I can, of course, take no steps till I have seen him."

  "Yes, but you cannot be admitted, except by a special permission from M.Galpin; and I doubt if we can procure that to-day."

  "That is provoking."

  "No, since we have our work all cut out for to-day. We have to go overall the papers of the proceedings, which the magistrate has placed in myhands."

  Dr. Seignebos was boiling over with impatience. He broke in,--

  "Oh, what words! Go to work, Mr. Advocate, to work, I say. Come, shallwe go?"

  They were leaving the room when M. de Chandore called them back by agesture. He said,--

  "So far, gentlemen, we have thought of Jacques alone. And Dionysia?"

  The others looked at him, full of surprise.

  "What am I to say if she asks me what the result of M. Magloire'sinterview with Jacques has been, and why you would say nothing in herpresence?"

  Dr. Seignebos had confessed it more than once: he was no friend ofconcealment.

  "You will tell her the truth," was his advice.

  "What? How can I tell her that Jacques has been the lover of theCountess Claudieuse?"

  "She will hear of it sooner or later. Miss Dionysia is a sensible,energetic girl."

  "Yes; but Miss Dionysia is as ignorant as a holy angel," broke in M.Folgat eagerly, "and she loves M. de Boiscoran. Why should we troublethe purity of her thoughts and her happiness? Is she not unhappy enough?M. de Boiscoran is no longer kept in close confinement. He will see hisbetrothed, and, if he thinks proper, he can tell her. He alone has theright to do so. I shall, however, dissuade him. From what I know of MissChandore's character, it would be impossible for her to control herself,if she should meet the Countess Claudieuse."

  "M. de Chandore ought not to say any thing," said M. Magloiredecisively. "It is too much already, to have to intrust the marchionesswith the secret; for you must not forget, gentlemen, that the slightestindiscretion would certainly ruin all of M. Folgat's delicate plans."

  Thereupon all went out; and M. de Chandore, left alone, said tohimself,--

  "Yes, they are right; but what am I to say?"

  He was thinking it over almost painfully, when a maid came in, and toldhim that Miss Dionysia wanted to see him.

  "I am coming," he said.

  And he followed her with heavy steps, and trying to compose his featuresso as to efface all traces of the terrible emotions through which hehad passed. The two aunts had taken Dionysia and the marchioness tothe parlor in the upper story. Here M. de Chandore found them allassembled,--the marchioness, pale and overcome, extended in aneasy-chair; but Dionysia, walking up and down with burning cheeks andblazing eyes. As soon as he entered, she asked him in a sharp, sadvoice,--

  "Well? There is no hope, I suppose."

  "More hope than ever, on the contrary," he replied, trying to smile.

  "Then why did M. De Magloire send us all out?"

  The old gentleman had had time to prepare a fib.

  "Because M. Magloire had to tell us a piece of bad news. There is nochance of no true bill being found. Jacques will have to appear incourt."

  The marchioness jumped up like a piece of mechanism, and cried,--

  "What! Jacques before the assizes? My son? A Boiscoran?" And she fellback into her chair. Not a muscle in Dionysia's face had moved. She saidin a strange tone of voice,--

  "I was prepared for something worse. One may avoid the court."

  With these words she left the room, shutting the door so violently, thatboth the Misses Lavarande hastened after her. Now M. de Chandore thoughthe might speak freely. He stood up before the marchioness, and gave ventto that fearful wrath which had been rising within him for a long time.

  "Your son," he cried, "your Jacques, I wish he were dead a thousandtimes! The wretch who is killing my child, for you see he is killingher."

  And, without pity, he told her the whole story of Jacques and theCountess Claudieuse. The marchioness was overcome. She had even ceasedto sob, and had not strength enough left to ask him to have pity on her.And, when he had ended, she whispered to herself with an expression ofunspeakable suffering,--

  "Adultery! Oh, my God! what punishment!"