XXX.

  "What scene? What witness? That is what I wanted to hear from you, andwhy I was waiting so impatiently for you," said Dr. Seignebos to M.Folgat. "I have seen and stated the results: now it is for you to giveme the cause."

  Nevertheless, he did not seem to be in the least surprised by what theyoung advocate told him of Jacques's desperate enterprise, and of thetragic result. As soon as he had heard it all, he exclaimed,--

  "I thought so: yes, upon my word! By racking my brains all night long,I had very nearly guessed the whole story. And who, in Jacques's place,would not have been desirous to make one last effort? But certainly fateis against him."

  "Who knows?" said M. Folgat. And, without giving the doctor time toreply, he went on,--

  "In what are our chances worse than they were before? In no way. We canto-day, just as well as we could yesterday, lay our hands upon thoseproofs which we know do exist, and which would save us. Who tells usthat at this moment Sir Francis Burnett and Suky Wood may not have beenfound? Is your confidence in Goudar shaken?"

  "Oh, as to that, not at all! I saw him this morning at the hospital,when I paid my usual visit; and he found an opportunity to tell me thathe was almost certain of success."

  "Well?"

  "I am persuaded Cocoleu will speak. But will he speak in time? That isthe question. Ah, if we had but a month's time, I should say Jacques issafe. But our hours are counted, you know. The court will be heldnext week. I am told the presiding judge has already arrived, and M.Gransiere has engaged rooms at the hotel. What do you mean to do ifnothing new occurs in the meantime?"

  "M. Magloire and I will obstinately adhere to our plan of defence."

  "And if Count Claudieuse keeps his promise, and declares that herecognized Jacques in the act of firing at him?"

  "We shall say he is mistaken."

  "And Jacques will be condemned."

  "Well," said the young advocate.

  And lowering his voice, as if he did not wish to be overheard, headded,--

  "Only the sentence will not be a fatal sentence. Ah, do not interruptme, doctor, and upon your life, upon Jacques's life, do not say aword of what I am going to tell you. A suspicion which should crossM. Galpin's mind would destroy my last hope; for it would give him anopportunity of correcting a blunder which he has committed, and whichjustifies me in saying to you, 'Even if the count should give evidence,even if sentence should be passed, nothing would be lost yet.'"

  He had become animated; and his accent and his gestures made you feelthat he was sure of himself.

  "No," he repeated, "nothing would be lost; and then we should have timebefore us, while waiting for a second trial, to hunt up our witnesses,and to force Cocoleu to tell the truth. Let the count say what hechooses, I like it all the better: I shall thus be relieved of my lastscruples. It seemed to me odious to betray the countess, because Ithought the most cruelly punished would be the count. But, if the countattacks us, we are on the defence; and public opinion will be on ourside. More than that, they will admire us for having sacrificed ourhonor to a woman's honor, and for having allowed ourselves to becondemned rather than to give up the name of her who has given herselfto us."

  The physician did not seem to be convinced; but the young advocate paidno attention. He went on,--

  "No, our success in a second trial would be almost certain. The scenein Mautrec Street has been seen by a witness: his iron-shod shoes haveleft, as you say, their marks under the linden-trees nearest to theparlor-window, and little Martha has watched his movements. Who can thiswitness be unless it is Trumence? Well, we shall lay hands upon him. Hewas standing so that he could see every thing, and hear every word.He will tell what he saw and what he heard. He will tell how CountClaudieuse called out to M. de Boiscoran, 'No, I do not want to killyou! I have a surer vengeance than that: you shall go to the galleys.'"

  Dr. Seignebos sadly shook his head as he said,--

  "I hope your expectations may be realized, my dear sir."

  But they came again for the doctor the third time to-day. Shaking handswith the young advocate, he parted with his young friend, who after ashort visit to M. Magloire, whom he thought it his duty to keep wellinformed of all that was going on, hastened to the house of M. deChandore. As soon as he looked into Dionysia's face, he knew that hehad nothing to tell her; that she knew all the facts, and how unjust hersuspicions had been.

  "What did I tell you, madam?" he said very modestly.

  She blushed, ashamed at having let him see the secret doubts which hadtroubled her so sorely, and, instead of replying, she said,--

  "There are some letters for you, M. Folgat. They have carried them upstairs to your room."

  He found two letters,--one from Mrs. Goudar, the other from the agentwho had been sent to England.

  The former was of no importance. Mrs. Goudar only asked him to send anote, which she enclosed, to her husband.

  The second, on the other hand, was of the very greatest interest. Theagent wrote,--

  "Not without great difficulties, and especially not without a heavyoutlay of money, I have at length discovered Sir Francis Burnett'sbrother in London, the former cashier of the house of Gilmour andBenson.

  "Our Sir Francis is not dead. He was sent by his father to Madras, toattend to very important financial matters, and is expected back by thenext mail steamer. We shall be informed of his arrival on the very dayon which he lands.

  "I have had less trouble in discovering Suky Wood's family. They arepeople very well off, who keep a sailor's tavern in Folkstone. Theyhad news from their daughter about three weeks ago; but, althoughthey profess to be very much attached to her, they could not tell meaccurately where she was just now. All they know is, that she has goneto Jersey to act as barmaid in a public house.

  "But that is enough for me. The island is not very large; and I know itquite well, having once before followed a notary public there, who hadrun off with the money of his clients. You may consider Suky as safe.

  "When you receive this letter, I shall be on my way to Jersey.

  "Send me money there to the Golden Apple Hotel, where I propose tolodge. Life is amazingly dear in London; and I have very little left ofthe sum you gave me on parting."

  Thus, in this direction, at least, every thing was going well.

  Quite elated by this first success, M. Folgat put a thousand-franc noteinto an envelope, directed it as desired, and sent it at once to thepost-office. Then he asked M. de Chandore to lend him his carriage, andwent out to Boiscoran.

  He wanted to see Michael, the tenant's son, who had been so promptin finding Cocoleu, and in bringing him into town. He found him,fortunately, just coming home, bringing in a cart loaded with straw;and, taking him aside, he asked him,--

  "Will you render M. de Boiscoran a great service?"

  "What must I do?" replied the young man in a tone of voice which said,better than all protestations could have done, that he was ready to doany thing.

  "Do you know Trumence?"

  "The former basket-weaver of Tremblade?"

  "Exactly."

  "Upon my word, don't I know him? He has stolen apples enough from me,the scamp! But I don't blame him so much, after all; for he is a goodfellow, in spite of that."

  "He was in prison at Sauveterre."

  "Yes, I know; he had broken down a gate near Brechy and"--

  "Well, he has escaped."

  "Ah, the scamp!"

  "And we must find him again. They have put the gendarmes on his track;but will they catch him?"

  Michael burst out laughing.

  "Never in his life!" he said. "Trumence will make his way to Oleron,where he has friends; the gendarmes will be after him in vain."

  M. Folgat slapped Michael amicably on the shoulder, and said,--

  "But you, if you choose? Oh! do not look angry at me. We do not want tohave him arrested. All I want you to do is to hand him a letter from me,and to bring me back his answer."

  "If that is all, then I am
your man. Just give me time to change myclothes, and to let father know, and I am off."

  Thus M. Folgat began, as far as in him lay, to prepare for futureaction, trying to counteract all the cunning measures of the prosecutionby such combinations as were suggested to him by his experience and hisgenius.

  Did it follow from this, that his faith in ultimate success was strongenough to make him speak of it to his most reliable friends, even, sayto Dr. Seignebos, to M. Magloire, or to good M. Mechinet?

  No; for, bearing all the responsibility on his own shoulders, he hadcarefully weighed the contrary chances of the terrible game in which heproposed to engage, and in which the stakes were the honor and the lifeof a man. He knew, better than anybody else, that a mere nothing mightdestroy all his plans, and that Jacques's fate was dependent on the mosttrivial accident.

  Like a great general on the eve of a battle, he managed to control hisfeelings, affecting, for the benefit of others, a confidence which hedid not really feel, and allowing no feature of his face to betray thegreat anxiety which generally kept him awake more than half the night.

  And certainly it required a character of marvellous strength to remainimpassive and resolute under such circumstances.

  Everybody around him was in despair, and gave up all hope.

  The house of M. de Chandore, once so full of life and merriment, hadbecome as silent and sombre as a tomb.

  The last two months had made of M. de Chandore an old man in goodearnest. His tall figure had begun to stoop, and he looked bent andbroken. He walked with difficulty, and his hands began to tremble.

  The Marquis de Boiscoran had been hit even harder. He, who only a fewweeks before looked robust and hearty, now appeared almost decrepit. Hedid not eat, so to say, and did not sleep. He became frightfully thin.It gave him pain to utter a word.

  As to the marchioness, the very sources of life seemed to have beensapped within her. She had had to hear M. Magloire say that Jacques'ssafety would have been put beyond all doubt if they had succeeded inobtaining a change of venue, or an adjournment of the trial. And it washer fault that such a change had not been applied for. That thought wasdeath to her. She had hardly strength enough left to drag herself everyday as far as the jail to see her son.

  The two Misses Lavarande had to bear all the practical difficultiesarising from this sore trial: they went and came, looking as pale asghosts, whispering in a low voice, and walking on tiptoe, as if therehad been a death in the house.

  Dionysia alone showed greater energy as the troubles increased. She didnot indulge in much hope.

  "I know Jacques will be condemned," she said to M. Folgat. But shesaid, also, that despair belonged to criminals only, and that the fatalmistake for which Jacques was likely to suffer ought to inspire hisfriends with nothing but indignation and thirst for vengeance.

  And, while her grandfather and the Marquis de Boiscoran went out aslittle as possible, she took pains to show herself in town, astonishingthe ladies "in good society" by the way in which she received theirfalse expressions of sympathy. But it was evident that she was onlyheld up by a kind of feverish excitement, which gave to her cheeks theirbright color, to her eyes their brilliancy, and to her voice its clear,silvery ring. Ah! for her sake mainly, M. Folgat longed to end thisuncertainty which is so much more painful than the greatest misfortune.

  The time was drawing near.

  As Dr. Seignebos had announced, the president of the tribunal, M.Domini, had already arrived in Sauveterre.

  He was one of those men whose character is an honor to the bench, fullof the dignity of his profession, but not thinking himself infallible,firm without useless rigor, cold and still kind-hearted, having noother mistress but Justice, and knowing no other ambition but that ofestablishing the truth.

  He had examined Jacques, as he was bound to do; but the examination hadbeen, as it always is, a mere formality, and had led to no result.

  The next step was the selection of a jury.

  The jurymen had already begun to arrive from all parts of thedepartment. They lodged at the Hotel de France, where they took theirmeals in common in the large back dining-room, which is always speciallyreserved for their use.

  In the afternoon one might see them, looking grave and thoughtful, takea walk on the New-Market Square, or on the old ramparts.

  M. Gransiere, also, had arrived. But he kept strictly in retirementin his room at the Hotel de la Poste, where M. Galpin every day spentseveral hours in close conference with him.

  "It seems," said Mechinet in confidence to M. Folgat,--"it seems theyare preparing an overwhelming charge."

  The day after, Dionysia opened "The Sauveterre Independent," and foundin it an announcement of the cases set down for each day,--

  MONDAY..... Fraudulent bankruptcy, defalcation, forgery. TUESDAY.... Murder, theft. WEDNESDAY.. Infanticide, domestic theft. THURSDAY... Incendiarism, and attempted assassination (case of M. de Boiscoran).

  This was, therefore, the great day on which the good people ofSauveterre expected to enjoy the most delightful emotions. Hence therewas an immense pressure brought to bear upon all the principal membersof the court to obtain tickets of admission. People who, the nightbefore, had refused to speak to M. Galpin, would stop him the next dayin the street, and beg him to give them a ticket, not for themselves,but for "their lady." Finally, the unheard-of fact became known,that tickets were openly sold for money! One family had actually theincomprehensible courage to write to the Marquis de Boiscoran forthree tickets, promising, in return, "by their attitude in court" tocontribute to the acquittal of the accused.

  In the midst of all these rumors, the city was suddenly startled bya list of subscriptions in behalf of the families of the unfortunatefiremen who had perished in the fire at Valpinson.

  Who had started this paper? M. Seneschal tried in vain to discover thehand that had struck this blow. The secret of this treacherous trick waswell kept. But it was a most atrocious trick to revive thus, on the eveof the trial, such mournful memories and such bitter hatred.

  "That man Galpin had a hand in it," said Dr. Seignebos, grinding histeeth. "And to think that he may, after all, be triumphant! Ah, why didnot Goudar commence his experiment a little sooner?"

  For Goudar, while assuring everybody of certain success, asked for time.To disarm the mistrust of an idiot like Cocoleu was not the work of aday or a week. He declared, that, if he should be overhasty, he wouldmost assuredly ruin every thing.

  Otherwise, nothing new occurred.

  Count Claudieuse was getting rather better.

  The agent in Jersey had telegraphed that he was on Suky's track; that hewould certainly catch her, but that he could not say when.

  Michael, finally, had in vain searched the whole district, and been allover Oleron; no one had been able to give him any news of Trumence.

  Thus, on the day when the session began, a council was held, in whichall of Jacques's friends took part; and here it was resolved that hiscounsel would not mention the name of the Countess Claudieuse, andwould, even if the count should offer to give evidence, adhere to theplan of defence suggested by M. Folgat.

  Alas! the chances of success seemed hourly to diminish; for the jury,very much against the usual experience, appeared to be excessivelysevere. The bankrupt was sentenced to twenty years' hard labor. Theman accused of murder could not even obtain the plea of "extenuatingcircumstances," and was sentenced to death.

  This was on Wednesday.

  It was decided that M. de Chandore and the Marquis and the Marchionessde Boiscoran should attend the trial. They wanted to spare Dionysia theterrible excitement; but she declared that, in that case, she shouldgo alone to the court-house; and thus they were forced to submit to herwill.

  Thanks to an order from M. Domini, M. Folgat and M. Magloire could spendthe evening with Jacques in order to determine all the details, and toagree upon certain replies to be given.

  Jacques looked excessively pale, but was quite composed. And
when hiscounsel left him, saying,--

  "Keep up your courage and hope," he replied,--

  "Hope I have none; but courage--I assure you, I have courage!"