M. Daburon then quitted his chair, and, taking the advocate by the hand, led him to the count.
"M. de Commarin," said he, "I have the honour of presenting to you M.
Noel Gerdy."
M. de Commarin was probably expecting some scene of this kind: for not a muscle of his face moved: he remained perfectly calm. Noel, on his side, was like a man who had received a blow on the head; he staggered, and was obliged to seek support from the back of a chair.
Then these two, father and son, stood face to face, apparently deep in thought, but in reality examining one another with mutual distrust, each striving to gather something of the other"s thoughts.
M. Daburon had augured better results from this meeting, which he had been awaiting ever since the count"s arrival. He had expected that this abrupt presentation would bring about an intensely pathetic scene, which would not give his two witnesses time for reflection. The count would open his arms: Noel would throw himself into them; and this reconciliation would only await the sanction of the tribunals, to be complete.
The coldness of the one, the embarra.s.sment of the other, disconcerted his plans. He therefore thought it necessary to intervene.
"Count," said he reproachfully, "remember that it was only a few minutes ago that you admitted that M. Gerdy was your legitimate son."
M. de Commarin made no reply; to judge from his lack of emotion, he could not have heard.
So Noel, summoning all his courage, ventured to speak first,--"Sir," he stammered, "I entertain no--"
"You may call me father," interrupted the haughty old man, in a tone which was by no means affectionate. Then addressing the magistrate he said: "Can I be of any further use to you, sir?"
"Only to hear your evidence read over," replied M. Daburon, "and to sign it if you find everything correct. You can proceed, Constant," he added.
The tall clerk turned half round on his chair and commenced. He had a peculiar way of jabbering over what he had scrawled. He read very quickly, all at a stretch, without paying the least attention to either full stops or commas, questions or replies; but went on reading as long as his breath lasted. When he could go on no longer, he took a breath, and then continued as before. Unconsciously, he reminded one of a diver, who every now and then raises his head above water, obtains a supply of air, and disappears again. Noel was the only one to listen attentively to the reading, which to unpractised ears was unintelligible. It apprised him of many things which it was important for him to know. At last Constant p.r.o.nounced the words, "In testimony whereof," etc., which end all official reports in France.
He handed the pen to the count, who signed without hesitation. The old n.o.bleman then turned towards Noel.
"I am not very strong," he said; "you must therefore, my son,"
emphasizing the word, "help your father to his carriage."
The young advocate advanced eagerly. His face brightened, as he pa.s.sed the count"s arm through his own. When they were gone, M. Daburon could not resist a impulse of curiosity. He hastened to the door, which he opened slightly; and, keeping his body in the background that he might not himself be seen, he looked out into the pa.s.sage. The count and Noel had not yet reached the end. They were going slowly. The count seemed to drag heavily and painfully along; the advocate took short steps, bending slightly towards his father; and all his movements were marked with the greatest solicitude. The magistrate remained watching them until they pa.s.sed out of sight at the end of the gallery. Then he returned to his seat, heaving a deep sigh.
"At least," thought he, "I have helped to make one person happy. The day will not be entirely a bad one."
But he had no time to give way to his thoughts, the hours flew by so quickly. He wished to interrogate Albert as soon as possible; and he had still to receive the evidence of several of the count"s servants, and the report of the commissary of police charged with the arrest. The servants who had been waiting their turn a long while were now brought in without delay, and examined separately. They had but little information to give; but the testimony of each was so to say a fresh accusation. It was easy to see that all believed their master guilty.
Albert"s conduct since the beginning of the fatal week, his least words, his most insignificant movements, were reported, commented upon, and explained.
The man who lives in the midst of thirty servants is like an insect in a gla.s.s box under the magnifying gla.s.s of a naturalist. Not one of his acts escapes their notice: he can scarcely have a secret of his own; and, if they cannot divine what it is, they at least know that he has one. From morn till night he is the point of observation for thirty pairs of eyes, interested in studying the slightest changes in his countenance.
The magistrate obtained, therefore, an abundance of those frivolous details which seem nothing at first; but the slightest of which may, at the trial, become a question of life or death.
By combining these depositions, reconciling them and putting them in order, M. Daburon was able to follow his prisoner hour by hour from the Sunday morning.
Directly Noel left, the viscount gave orders that all visitors should be informed that he had gone into the country. From that moment, the whole household perceived that something had gone wrong with him, that he was very much annoyed, or very unwell.
He did not leave his study on that day, but had his dinner brought up to him. He ate very little,--only some soup, and a very thin fillet of sole with white wine. While eating, he said to M. Contois, the butler: "Remind the cook to spice the sauce a little more, in future," and then added in a low tone, "Ah! to what purpose?" In the evening he dismissed his servants from all duties, saying, "Go, and amuse yourselves." He expressly warned them not to disturb him unless he rang.
On the Monday, he did not get up until noon, although usually an early riser. He complained of a violent headache, and of feeling sick.
He took, however a cup of tea. He ordered his brougham, but almost immediately countermanded the order. Lubin, his valet, heard him say: "I am hesitating too much;" and a few moments later, "I must make up my mind." Shortly afterwards he began writing.
He then gave Lubin a letter to carry to Mademoiselle Claire d"Arlange, with orders to deliver it only to herself or to Mademoiselle Schmidt, the governess. A second letter, containing two thousand franc notes, was intrusted to Joseph, to be taken to the viscount"s club. Joseph no longer remembered the name of the person to whom the letter was addressed; but it was not a person of t.i.tle. That evening, Albert only took a little soup, and remained shut up in his room.
He rose early on the Tuesday. He wandered about the house, as though he were in great trouble, or impatiently awaiting something which did not arrive. On his going into the garden, the gardener asked his advice concerning a lawn. He replied, "You had better consult the count upon his return."
He did not breakfast any more than the day before. About one o"clock, he went down to stables, and caressed, with an air of sadness, his favorite mare, Norma. Stroking her neck, he said, "Poor creature! poor old girl!"
At three o"clock, a messenger arrived with a letter. The viscount took it, and opened it hastily. He was then near the flower-garden. Two footmen distinctly heard him say, "She cannot resist." He returned to the house, and burnt the letter in the large stove in the hall.
As he was sitting down to dinner, at six o"clock, two of his friends, M. de Courtivois and the Marquis de Chouze, insisted upon seeing him, in spite of all orders. They would not be refused. These gentlemen were anxious for him to join them in some pleasure party, but he declined, saying that he had a very important appointment.
At dinner he ate a little more than on the previous days. He even asked the butler for a bottle of Chateau-Lafitte, the whole of which he drank himself. While taking his coffee, he smoked a cigar in the dining room, contrary to the rules of the house. At half-past seven, according to Joseph and two footmen, or at eight according to the Swiss porter and Lubin, the viscount went out on foot, taking an umbrella with him. He returned home at two o"clock in the morning, and at once dismissed his valet, who had waited up for him.
On entering the viscount"s room on the Wednesday, the valet was struck with the condition in which he found his master"s clothes. They were wet, and stained with mud; the trousers were torn. He ventured to make a remark about them. Albert replied, in a furious manner, "Throw the old things in a corner, ready to be given away."
He appeared to be much better all that day. He breakfasted with a good appet.i.te; and the butler noticed that he was in excellent spirits. He pa.s.sed the afternoon in the library, and burnt a pile of papers.
On the Thursday, he again seemed very unwell. He was scarcely able to go and meet the count. That evening, after his interview with his father, he went to his room looking extremely ill. Lubin wanted to run for the doctor: he forbade him to do so, or to mention to any one that he was not well.
Such was the substance of twenty large pages, which the tall clerk had covered with writing, without once turning his head to look at the witnesses who pa.s.sed by in their fine livery.
M. Daburon managed to obtain this evidence in less than two hours.
Though well aware of the importance of their testimony, all these servants were very voluble. The difficulty was, to stop them when they had once started. From all they said, it appeared that Albert was a very good master,--easily served, kind and polite to his servants. Wonderful to relate! there were found only three among them who did not appear perfectly delighted at the misfortune which had befallen the family.
Two were greatly distressed. M. Lubin, although he had been an object of especial kindness, was not one of these.
The turn of the commissary of police had now come. In a few words, he gave an account of the arrest, already described by old Tabaret. He did not forget to mention the one word "Lost," which had escaped Albert; to his mind, it was a confession. He then delivered all the articles seized in the Viscount de Commarin"s apartments.
The magistrate carefully examined these things, and compared them closely with the sc.r.a.ps of evidence gathered at La Jonchere. He soon appeared, more than ever, satisfied with the course he had taken.
He then placed all these material proofs upon his table, and covered them over with three or four large sheets of paper.
The day was far advanced; and M. Daburon had no more than sufficient time to examine the prisoner before night. He now remembered that he had tasted nothing since morning; and he sent hastily for a bottle of wine and some biscuits. It was not strength, however, that the magistrate needed; it was courage. All the while that he was eating and drinking, his thoughts kept repeating this strange sentence, "I am about to appear before the Viscount de Commarin." At any other time, he would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea, but, at this moment, it seemed to him like the will of Providence.
"So be it," said he to himself; "this is my punishment."
And immediately he gave the necessary orders for Viscount Albert to be brought before him.
CHAPTER XII.
Albert scarcely noticed his removal from home to the seclusion of the prison. s.n.a.t.c.hed away from his painful thoughts by the harsh voice of the commissary, saying. "In the name of the law I arrest you," his mind, completely upset, was a long time in recovering its equilibrium, Everything that followed appeared to him to float indistinctly in a thick mist, like those dream-scenes represented on the stage behind a quadruple curtain of gauze.
To the questions put to him he replied, without knowing what he said.
Two police agents took hold of his arms, and helped him down the stairs.
He could not have walked down alone. His limbs, which bent beneath him, refused their support. The only thing he understood of all that was said around him was that the count had been struck with apoplexy; but even that he soon forgot.
They lifted him into the cab, which was waiting in the court-yard at the foot of the steps, rather ashamed at finding itself in such a place; and they placed him on the back seat. Two police agents installed themselves in front of him while a third mounted the box by the side of the driver.
During the drive, he did not at all realize his situation. He lay perfectly motionless in the dirty, greasy vehicle. His body, which followed every jolt, scarcely allayed by the worn-out springs, rolled from one side to the other and his head oscillated on his shoulders, as if the muse of his neck were broken. He thought of Widow Lerouge. He recalled her as she was when he went with his father to La Jonchere. It was in the spring-time; and the hawthorn blossoms scented the air.