"I have never seen any thing like this. How fickle public opinion is, after all! Day before yesterday M. de Boiscoran could not have pa.s.sed through the town without being mobbed. If he should show himself to-day, they would carry him in triumph. He has been condemned, and now he is a martyr. It is known already that the sentence is void, and they are delighted. My sisters have just told me that the ladies in good society propose to give to the Marchioness de Boiscoran and to Miss Chandore some public evidence of their sympathy. The members of the bar will give M. Folgat a public dinner."
"Why that is monstrous!" cried M. Galpin.
"Well," said M. Daubigeon, ""the opinions of men are more fickle and changeable than the waves of the sea.""
But, interrupting the quotation, M. Galpin asked his clerk,--
"Well, what else?"
"I went to hand M. Gransiere the letter which you gave me for him"--
"What did he say?"
"I found him in consultation with the president, M. Domini. He took the letter, glanced at it rapidly, and told me in his most icy tone, "Very well!" To tell the truth, I thought, that, in spite of his stiff and grand air, he was in reality furious."
The magistrate looked utterly in despair.
"I can"t stand it," he said sighing. "These men whose veins have no blood in them, but poison, never forgive."
"Day before yesterday you thought very highly of him."
"Day before yesterday he did not look upon me as the cause of a great misfortune for him."
M. Mechinet went on quite eagerly,--
"After leaving M. Gransiere, I went to the court-house, and there I head the great piece of news which has set all the town agog. Count Claudieuse is dead."
M. Daubigeon and M. Galpin looked at each other, and exclaimed in the same breath,--
"Great G.o.d! Is that so?"
"He breathed his last this morning, at two or three minutes before six o"clock. I saw his body in the private room of the attorney-general.
The priest from Brechy was there, and two other priests from his parish.
They were waiting for a bier to have him carried to his house."
"Poor man!" murmured M. Daubigeon.
"But I heard a great deal more," Mechinet said, "from the watchman who was on guard last night. He told me that when the trial was over, and it became known that Count Claudieuse was likely to die, the priest from Brechy came there, and asked to be allowed to offer him the last consolations of his church. The countess refused to let him come to the bedside of her husband. The watchman was amazed at this; and just then Miss Chandore suddenly appeared, and sent word to the countess that she wanted to speak to her."
"Is it possible?"
"Quite certain. They remained together for more than a quarter of an hour. What did they say? The watchman told me he was dying with curiosity to know; but he could hear nothing, because there was the priest from Brechy, all the while, kneeling before the door, and praying. When they parted, they looked terribly excited. Then the countess immediately called in the priest, and he stayed with the count till he died."
M. Daubigeon and M. Galpin had not yet recovered from their amazement at this account, when somebody knocked timidly at the door.
"Come in!" cried Mechinet.
The door opened, and the sergeant of gendarmes appeared.
"I have been sent here by the attorney-general," he said; "and the servant told me you were up here. We have just caught Trumence."
"That man who had escaped from jail?"
"Yes. We were about to carry him back there, when he told us that he had a secret to reveal, a very important, urgent secret, concerning the condemned prisoner, Boiscoran."
"Trumence?"
"Yes. Then we carried him to the court-house, and I came for orders."
"Run and say that I am coming to see him!" cried M. Daubigeon. "Make haste! I am coming after you."
But the gendarme, a model of obedience, had not waited so long: he was already down stairs.
"I must leave you, Galpin," said M. Daubigeon, very much excited. "You heard what the man said. We must know what that means at once."
But the magistrate was not less excited.
"You permit me to accompany you, I hope?" he asked.
He had a right to do so.
"Certainly," replied the commonwealth attorney. "But make haste!"
The recommendation was not needed. M. Galpin had already put on his boots. He now slipped his overcoat over his home dress, as he was; and off they went.
Mechinet followed the two gentlemen as they hastened down the street; and the good people of Sauveterre, always on the lookout, were not a little scandalized at seeing their well-known magistrate, M. Galpin, in his home costume,--he who generally was most scrupulously precise in his dress.
Standing on their door-steps, they said to each other,--
"Something very important must have happened. Just look at these gentlemen!"
The fact was, they were walking so fast, that people might well wonder; and they did not say a word all the way.
But, ere they reached the court-house, they were forced to stop; for some four or five hundred people were filling the court, crowding on the steps, and actually pressing against the doors.
Immediately all became silent; hats were raised; the crowd parted; and a pa.s.sage was opened.
On the porch appeared the priest from Brechy, and two other priests.
Behind them came attendants from the hospital, who bore a bier covered with black cloth; and beneath the cloth the outlines of a human body could be seen.
The women began to cry; and those who had room enough knelt down.
"Poor countess!" murmured one of them. "Here is her husband dead, and they say one of her daughters is dying at home."
But M. Daubigeon, the magistrate, and Mechinet were too preoccupied with their own interests to think of stopping for more reliable news. The way was open: they went in, and hastened to the clerk"s office, where the gendarmes had taken Trumence, and now were guarding him.
He rose as soon as he recognized the gentlemen, and respectfully took off his cap. It was really Trumence; but the good-for-nothing vagrant did not present his usual careless appearance. He looked pale, and was evidently very much excited.