XXIV.
The great lawyer of Sauveterre had been far more astonished at theunexpected and extraordinary meeting than M. Folgat. As soon as thewandering minstrel had left them, he asked his young colleague,--
"You know that individual?"
"That individual," replied M. Folgat, "is none other than the agentwhose services I have engaged, and whom I mentioned to you."
"Goudar?"
"Yes, Goudar."
"And did you not recognize him?"
The young advocate smiled.
"Not until he spoke," he replied. "The Goudar whom I know is tall, thin,beardless, and wears his hair cut like a brush. This street-musician islow, bearded, and has long, smooth hair falling down his back. How couldI recognize my man in that vagabond costume, with a violin in his hand,and a provincial song set to music?"
M. Magloire smiled too, as he said,--
"What are, after all, professional actors in comparison with these men!Here is one who pretends having reached Sauveterre only this morning,and who knows the country as well as Trumence himself. He has not beenhere twelve hours, and he speaks already of M. de Chandore's littlegarden-gate."
"Oh! I can explain that circumstance now, although, at first, itsurprised me very much. When I told Goudar the whole story, I no doubtmentioned the little gate in connection with Mechinet."
Whilst they were chatting thus, they had reached the upper end ofNational Street. Here they stopped; and M. Magloire said,--
"One word before we part. Are you quite resolved to see the CountessClaudieuse?"
"I have promised."
"What do you propose telling her?"
"I do not know. That depends upon how she receives me."
"As far as I know her, she will, upon looking at the note, merely orderyou out."
"Who knows! At all events, I shall not have to reproach myself forhaving shrunk from a step which in my heart I thought it my duty totake."
"Whatever may happen, be prudent, and do not allow yourself to getangry. Remember that a scene with her would compel us to change ourwhole line of defence, and that that is the only one which promises anysuccess."
"Oh, do not fear!"
Thereupon, shaking hands once more, they parted, M. Magloire returningto his house, and M. Folgat going up the street. It struck half-pastfive, and the young advocate hurried on for fear of being too late. Hefound them waiting for him to go to dinner; but, as he entered the room,he forgot all his excuses in his painful surprise at the mournful anddejected appearance of the prisoner's friends and relatives.
"Have we any bad news?" he asked with a hesitating voice.
"The worst we had to fear," replied the Marquis de Boiscoran. "We hadall foreseen it; and still, as you see, it has surprised us all, like aclap of thunder."
The young lawyer beat his forehead, and cried,--
"The court has ordered the trial!"
The marquis only bent his head, as if his voice, had failed him toanswer the question.
"It is still a great secret," said Dionysia; "and we only know it,thanks to the indiscretion of our kind, our devoted Mechinet. Jacqueswill have to appear before the Assizes."
She was interrupted by a servant, who entered to announce that dinnerwas on the table.
They all went into the dining-room; but the last event made it well-nighimpossible for them to eat. Dionysia alone, deriving from feverishexcitement an amazing energy, aided M. Folgat in keeping up theconversation. From her the young advocate learned that Count Claudieusewas decidedly worse, and that he would have received, in the day, thelast sacrament, but for the decided opposition of Dr. Seignebos, who haddeclared that the slightest excitement might kill his patient.
"And if he dies," said M. de Chandore, "that is the finishingstroke. Public opinion, already incensed against Jacques, will becomeimplacable."
However, the meal came to an end; and M. Folgat went up to Dionysia,saying,--
"I must beg of you, madam, to trust me with the key to the littlegarden-gate."
She looked at him quite astonished.
"I have to see a detective secretly, who has promised me hisassistance."
"Is he here?"
"He came this morning."
When Dionysia had handed him the key, M. Folgat hastened to reachthe end of the garden; and, at the third stroke of nine o'clock, theminstrel of the New-Market Square, Goudar, pushed the little gate, and,his violin under his arm, slipped into the garden.
"A day lost!" he exclaimed, without thinking of saluting the younglawyer,--"a whole day; for I could do nothing till I had seen you."
He seemed to be so angry, that M. Folgat tried to soothe him.
"Let me first of all compliment you on your disguise," he said. ButGoudar did not seem to be open to praise.
"What would a detective be worth if he could not disguise himself! Agreat merit, forsooth! And I tell you, I hate it! But I could not thinkof coming to Sauveterre in my own person, a detective. Ugh! Everybodywould have run away; and what a pack of lies they would have told me! SoI had to assume that hideous masquerade. To think that I once tooksix months' lessons from a music-teacher merely to fit myself for thatcharacter! A wandering musician, you see, can go anywhere, and nobody issurprised; he goes about the streets, or he travels along the high-road;he enters into yards, and slips into houses; he asks alms: and in sodoing, he accosts everybody, speaks to them, follows them. And as to myprecious dialect, you must know I have been down here once for half ayear, hunting up counterfeiters; and, if you don't catch a provincialaccent in six months, you don't deserve belonging to the police. AndI do belong to it, to the great distress of my wife, and to my owndisgust."
"If your ambition is really what you say, my dear, Goudar," said M.Folgat, interrupting him, "you may be able to leave your profession verysoon--if you succeed in saving M. de Boiscoran."
"He would give me his house in Vine Street?"
"With all his heart!"
The detective looked up, and repeated slowly,--
"The house in Vine Street, the paradise of this world. An immensegarden, a soil of marvellous beauty. And what an exposure! There arewalls there on which I could raise finer peaches than they have atMontreuil, and richer Chasselas than those of Fontainebleau!"
"Did you find any thing there?" asked M. Folgat.
Goudar, thus recalled to business, looked angry again.
"Nothing at all," he replied. "Nor did I learn any thing from thetradesmen. I am no further advanced than I was the first day."
"Let us hope you will have more luck here."
"I hope so; but I need your assistance to commence operations. I mustsee Dr. Seignebos, and Mechinet the clerk. Ask them to meet me at theplace I shall assign in a note which I will send them."
"I will tell them."
"Now, if you want my _incognito_ to be respected, you must get me apermit from the mayor, for Goudar, street-musician. I keep my name,because here nobody knows me. But I must have the permit this evening.Wherever I might present myself, asking for a bed, they would call formy papers."
"Wait here for a quarter of an hour, there is a bench," said M. Folgat,"and I'll go at once to the mayor."
A quarter of an hour later, Goudar had his permit in his pocket,and went to take lodgings at the Red Lamb, the worst tavern in allSauveterre.
When a painful and inevitable duty is to be performed, the truecharacter of a man is apt to appear in its true light. Some peoplepostpone it as long as they can, and delay, like those pious personswho keep the biggest sin for the end of their confession: others, on thecontrary, are in a hurry to be relieved of their anxiety, and make anend of it as soon as they can. M. Folgat belonged to this latter class.
Next morning he woke up at daylight, and said to himself,--
"I will call upon the Countess Claudieuse this morning."
At eight o'clock, he left the house, dressed more carefully than usual,and told the servant that he did not wish to be waited for if he shouldnot be back for bre
akfast.
He went first to the court-house, hoping to meet the clerk there. Hewas not disappointed. The waiting-rooms were quite deserted yet; butMechinet was already at work in his office, writing with the feverishhaste of a man who has to pay for a piece of property that he wants tocall his own.
When he saw Folgat enter, he rose, and said at once,--
"You have heard the decision of the court?"
"Yes, thanks to your kindness; and I must confess it has not surprisedme. What do they think of it here?"
"Everybody expects a condemnation."
"Well, we shall see!" said the young advocate.
And, lowering his voice, he added,--
"But I came for another purpose. The agent whom I expected has come, andhe wishes to see you. He will write to you to make an appointment, and Ihope you will consent."
"Certainly, with all my heart," replied the clerk. "And God grant thathe may succeed in extricating M. de Boiscoran from his difficulties,even if it were only to take the conceit out of my master."
"Ah! is M. Galpin so triumphant?"
"Without the slightest reserve. He sees his old friend already at thegalleys. He has received another letter of congratulation from theattorney general, and came here yesterday, when the court hadadjourned, to read it to any one who would listen. Everybody, of course,complimented him, except the president, who turned his back upon him,and the commonwealth attorney, who told him in Latin that he was sellingthe bear's skin before he had killed him."
In the meantime steps were heard coming down the passages; and M. Folgatsaid hurriedly,--
"One more suggestion. Goudar desires to remain unknown. Do not speak ofhim to any living soul, and especially show no surprise at the costumein which you see him."
The noise of a door which was opened interrupted him. One of the judgesentered, who, after having bowed very civilly, asked the clerk a numberof questions about a case which was to come on the same day.
"Good-bye, M. Mechinet," said the young advocate.
And his next visit was to Dr. Seignebos. When he rang the bell, aservant came to the door, and said,--
"The doctor is gone out; but he will be back directly, and has told meto beg you to wait for him in his study."
Such an evidence of perfect trust was unheard of. No one was everallowed to remain alone in his sanctuary. It was an immense room, quitefull of most varied objects, which at a glance revealed the opinions,tastes, and predilections of the owner. The first thing to strike thevisitor as he entered was an admirable bust of Bichat, flanked on eitherside by smaller busts of Robespierre and Rousseau. A clock of the timeof Louis XIV. stood between the windows, and marked the seconds with anoise which sounded like the rattling of old iron. One whole side wasfilled with books of all kinds, unbound or bound, in a way which wouldhave set M. Daubigeon laughing very heartily. A huge cupboard adaptedfor collections of plants bespoke a passing fancy for botany; while anelectric machine recalled the time when the doctor believed in cures byelectricity.
On the table in the centre of the room vast piles of books betrayed thedoctor's recent studies. All the authors who have spoken of insanityor idiocy were there, from Apostolides to Tardien. M. Folgat was stilllooking around when Dr. Seignebos entered, always like a bombshell, butfar more cheerful than usual.
"I knew I should find you here!" he cried still in the door. "You cometo ask me to meet Goudar."
The young advocate started, and said, all amazed,--
"Who can have told you?"
"Goudar himself. I like that man. I am sure no one will suspect me ofhaving a fancy for any thing that is connected with the police. I havehad too much to do all my life with spies and that ilk. But your manmight almost reconcile me with that department."
"When did you see him?"
"This morning at seven. He was so prodigiously tired of losing histime in his garret at the Red Lamb, that it occurred to him topretend illness, and to send for me. I went, and found a kind ofstreet-minstrel, who seemed to me to be perfectly well. But, as soonas we were alone, he told me all about it, asking me my opinion, andtelling me his ideas. M. Folgat, that man Goudar is very clever: I tellyou so; and we understand each other perfectly."
"Has he told you what he proposes to do?"
"Nearly so. But he has not authorized me to speak of it. Have patience;let him go to work, wait, and you will see if old Seignebos has a keenscent."
Saying this with an air of sublime conceit, he took off his spectacles,and set to work wiping them industriously.
"Well, I will wait," said the young advocate. "And, since that makes anend to my business here, I beg you will let me speak to you of anothermatter. M. de Boiscoran has charged me with a message to the CountessClaudieuse."
"The deuce!"
"And to try to obtain from her the means for our discharge."
"Do you expect she will do it?"
M. Folgat could hardly retain an impatient gesture.
"I have accepted the mission," he said dryly, "and I mean to carry itout."
"I understand, my dear sir. But you will not see the countess. The countis very ill. She does not leave his bedside, and does not even receiveher most intimate friends."
"And still I must see her. I must at any hazard place a note which myclient has confided to me, in her own hands. And look here, doctor, Imean to be frank with you. It was exactly because I foresaw there wouldbe difficulties, that I came to you to ask your assistance in overcomingor avoiding them."
"To me?"
"Are you not the count's physician?"
"Ten thousand devils!" cried Dr. Seignebos. "You do not mince matters,you lawyers!"
And then speaking in a lower tone, and replying apparently to his ownobjections rather than to M. Folgat, he said,--
"Certainly, I attend Count Claudieuse, whose illness, by the way, upsetsall my theories, and defies all my experience: but for that very reasonI can do nothing. Our profession has certain rules which cannot beinfringed upon without compromising the whole medical profession."
"But it is a question of life and death with Jacques, sir, with afriend."
"And a fellow Republican, to be sure. But I cannot help you withoutabusing the confidence of the Countess Claudieuse."
"Ah, sir! Has not that woman committed a crime for which M. deBoiscoran, though innocent, will be arraigned in court?"
"I think so; but still"--
He reflected a moment, and then suddenly snatched up his broad-brimmedhat, drew it over his head, and cried,--
"In fact, so much the worse for her! There are sacred interests whichoverride every thing. Come!"
Within an Inch of His Life Page 33