United States or United States Virgin Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He hesitated, and at last he answered, making a violent effort, "Bois Bois Boiscoran!" The name was received with murmurs of indignation and incredulous laughter. There was not a shadow of doubt or of suspicion. The peasants said, "M. de Boiscoran an incendiary! Who does he think will believe that story?" "It is absurd!" said Count Claudieuse. "Nonsense!" repeated the mayor and his friend. Dr.
After the silence of a minute, which seemed to be a century, he went and stood, with arms crossed on his chest, before the accused, and asked him, "Do you confess?" M. de Boiscoran sprang up as if moved by a spring, and said, "What? What do you want me to confess?" "That you have committed the crime at Valpinson." The young man pressed his hands convulsively on his brow, and cried out,
Had he really done harm to Jacques de Boiscoran, while he meant to help him? But he was not the man to be long in doubt. He replied in a dry tone, "I will not discuss that, gentlemen. I will ask you, only one question: 'Yes or no, do you believe in M. de Boiscoran's innocence?" "We believe in it fully," replied the two men.
"Of course I am nothing but an old fool, a maniac: I give it up; and I say, like Horace's man, 'Stultum me fateor, liceat concedere vires Atque etiam insanum." "You are joking. But what would have happened if I had listened to you?" "I don't care to know." "M. de Boiscoran would none the less have been sent to a jury." "May be."
We have lived together on excellent terms; but there has always been between us this high wall, this suspicion. As long as I was doubtful, I kept silent. But now, when the facts confirm my doubts, I say again, 'Jacques is no son of mine!" Overcome with grief, shame, and indignation, the Marchioness de Boiscoran was wringing her hands; then she cried, "What a humiliation!
I do not say that a Boiscoran may not commit a crime, passion makes us do strange things; but a Boiscoran, when he regains his senses, knows what becomes him to do. Blood washes out all stains. Jacques prefers the executioner; he waits; he is cunning; he means to plead. If he but save his head, he is quite content. A few years at hard labor, I suppose, will be a trifle to him.
"Being about to die as a Christian, as I have lived as a Christian, I owe it to myself, I owe it to God whom I have offended, and I owe it to those men whom I have deceived, to declare the truth. "Actuated by hatred, I have been guilty of giving false evidence in court, and of stating wrongfully that M. de Boiscoran is the man who shot at me, and that I recognized him in the act.
"Yes," replied M. Galpin, "and, if you choose to write at once, my clerk will be happy to carry your letter this evening to its destination." Jacques de Boiscoran availed himself on the spot of this permission; and he had done very soon, for the note which he wrote, and handed to M. Mechinet, contained only the few words, "I shall expect M. Magloire to-morrow morning at nine.
So I went on, creeping along stealthily, until I reached a tree, against which I pressed closely, about the length of my arm from one of the windows, which belonged to a beautiful parlor. I look and I see whom? M. de Boiscoran. As there were no curtains to the windows, I could see as well as I can see you. His face looked terrible.
When a prisoner has been with his counsel, I almost always go up to see him, and to offer him something, a little trifle to set him up again. So yesterday, after M. Magloire had been here, I climbed up" "And you found M. de Boiscoran sick?" "I found him in a pitiful condition, gentlemen. He lay on his stomach on his bed, his head in the pillow, and stiff as a corpse.
Word Of The Day