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Updated: June 29, 2025
"He must be on the way to Turin." M. d'Escorval's lips moved as if he were murmuring a prayer; then, in a feeble voice: "We owe you a debt of gratitude which we can never pay," he murmured, "for I think I shall pull through." He did "pull through," but not without terrible suffering, not without difficulties that made those around him tremble with anxiety.
When Abbe Midon and Martial de Sairmeuse held their conference, to discuss and to decide upon the arrangements for the Baron d'Escorval's escape, a difficulty presented itself which threatened to break off the negotiation. "Return my letter," said Martial, "and I will save the baron." "Save the baron," replied the abbe, "and your letter shall be returned."
When M. d'Escorval has completed his task at the Widow Chupin's house, he comes to the prison to examine the supposed murderer. The two men recognize each other. Had they been alone, mutual explanations might have ensued, and affairs taken quite a different turn. But they were not alone; a third party was present M. d'Escorval's clerk. So they could say nothing.
The baron listened petrified with astonishment, almost doubting the evidence of his own senses. Mme. d'Escorval's indignant and sorrowful exclamations showed that every noble sentiment in her soul revolted against such injustice. But there was one auditor, whom Marie-Anne alone observed, who was moved to his very entrails by this recital. This auditor was Maurice.
Then again, he never allowed himself to be governed by prejudice, nor had he as yet enriched his formulary with an axiom he afterward professed: "Distrust all circumstances that seem to favor your secret wishes." Of course, Lecoq did not rejoice at M. d'Escorval's accident; could he have prevented it, he would have gladly done so.
He loved her and though she was an orphan, destitute of fortune, he married her, considering the treasure of her virgin heart of far greater value than the most magnificent dowry. She was an honest woman, as her husband was an honest man, in the most strict and vigorous sense of the word. She was seldom seen at the Tuileries, where M. d'Escorval's worth made him eagerly welcomed.
But if I were placed in such a position I should find some excuse invent something " "And if you could find nothing better," interrupted Tabaret, "you would adopt M. d'Escorval's expedient; you would pretend you had broken a limb.
And yet Lecoq resolutely persisted in his theory, guided by the following reasons. He learnt from M. d'Escorval's clerk that when the magistrate had examined the prisoner, the latter not only refused to confess, but answered all the questions put to him in the most evasive fashion. In several instances, moreover, he had not replied at all.
This discourse could not have failed to arouse intense anxiety in M. d'Escorval's breast had he seen the ferocity expressed on almost every face. Still no one spoke; hesitation could be read in every eye. Martial, too, had turned so white that Mlle. Blanche remarked his pallor and thought he was ill.
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