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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Ah, ha!" cried the little clerk, "who will bet an evening at the play that Colonel Chabert is a General, and wears a red ribbon?" "The chief is a great magician," said Godeschal. "Then there is no trick to play on him this time?" asked Desroches. "His wife has taken that in hand, the Comtesse Ferraud," said Boucard. "What next?" said Godeschal. "Is Comtesse Ferraud required to belong to two men?"
"I say, Boucard, there is going to be a queer scene in the chief's room! There is a woman who can spend her days alternately, the odd with Comte Ferraud, and the even with Comte Chabert." "And in leap year," said Godeschal, "they must settle the count between them." "Silence, gentlemen, you can be heard!" said Boucard severely.
"But on that principle you would pay your bet by taking us to see the water run under the Pont Neuf!" cried Simonnin, interrupting him. "To be seen for money," Godeschal added. "But a great many things are to be seen for money that are not plays. The definition is defective," said Desroches. "But do listen to me!" "You are talking nonsense, my dear boy," said Boucard.
Boucard had finished his bill. He smelt the fragrance of his chocolate, rose from his cane armchair, went to the chimney-piece, looked the old man from head to foot, stared at his coat, and made an indescribable grimace.
Madame Ferraud is one of our clients." "Come, the case is remanded till to-morrow," said Boucard. "To work, gentlemen. The deuce is in it; we get nothing done here. Finish copying that appeal; it must be handed in before the sitting of the Fourth Chamber, judgment is to be given to-day. Come, on you go!"
"I am calling him that you may ask him whether he is a colonel or a porter; he must know." All the clerks laughed. As to the old man, he was already coming upstairs again. "What can we say to him?" cried Godeschal. "Leave it to me," replied Boucard. The poor man came in nervously, his eyes cast down, perhaps not to betray how hungry he was by looking too greedily at the eatables.
A thing worthy of note is the natural intrepidity of lawyers. Whether from the habit of receiving a great many persons, or from the deep sense of the protection conferred on them by the law, or from confidence in their missions, they enter everywhere, fearing nothing, like priests and physicians. Derville signed to Boucard, who vanished.
"No," Boucard insisted, in the midst of laughter, "I maintain that he was a brewer in 1789, and a colonel in the time of the Republic." "I bet theatre tickets round that he never was a soldier," said Godeschal. "Done with you," answered Boucard. "Monsieur! Monsieur!" shouted the little messenger, opening the window. "What are you at now, Simonnin?" asked Boucard.
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