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Updated: May 22, 2025
"What I can affirm," interrupted Dr. Gendron, "what I would affirm under oath, is, that all the wounds on the head, excepting one, were inflicted after death. No doubt of that whatever none whatever. Here, above the eye, is the blow given while the countess was alive."
"These conjectures are very shrewd," interposed M. Plantat; "but how is it that Guespin did not rejoin his comrades in the Batignolles? For in that way, to a certain degree, he might have provided a kind of alibi." Dr. Gendron had been sitting on the only unbroken chair in the chamber, reflecting on Plantat's sudden embarrassment, when he had spoken of Robelot the bone-setter.
Finally came a hale, old voyaguer whom Longley greeted heartily as he swung open the toll gate: "Greetings, Monsieur Francois Gendron, and from whence came you today?" The big Frenchman handed over the "six-bits" toll for himself and his horse. "From New Helvetia." "Ah Sacramento." "And I am bound for the North Fork Dry Diggings." "Auburn?" smiled Longley. "Bah! the new names!
Its force had been arrested by a metal button on my waistcoat, and it had only inflicted a slight wound on my stomach close to the navel. However, there it was and it had to be extracted, for it pained me extremely. An empiric named Gendron, the first surgeon my servants had found, made an opening on the opposite side of my hand which doubled the wound.
"It seems to me, Doctor," observed M. Lecoq, "that we may conclude from the proved fact that the countess, after death, was struck by a flat implement, that she had also ceased to live when she was mutilated by the knife." M. Gendron reflected a moment. "It is possible that you are right; as for me, I am persuaded of it. Still the conclusions in my report will not be yours.
On more than one occasion he had been the doctor's tool, and now he thought it no more than fair that the medical man should stand by him. "Evidently you know this guerrilla," said Jack slowly. "I do," answered the doctor slowly. He hardly knew how to proceed. "I aint no guerrilla, an' Dr. Mackey kin prove it," cried Pete Gendron. The coming of the medical man had raised his spirits wonderfully.
It was an act of terrible courage, believe me, to look at himself in the glass after a murder one of which few criminals are capable. The count's hands, however, trembled so violently that he could scarcely hold his razor, and his face must have been cut several times." "What!" said Dr. Gendron, "do you imagine that the count spared the time to shave?" "I am positively sure of it, pos-i-tive-ly.
"In short," he resumed, "I think you will be able to keep silence as to what you have heard from me." M. Lecoq took him by the hand, and pressing it significantly, said: "Count on me, Monsieur." At this moment Dr. Gendron appeared at the door. "Courtois is better," said he. "He weeps like a child; but he will come out of it." "Heaven be praised!" cried the old justice of the peace.
"But he and his comrades were trying to steal our horses," said Jack firmly. "As I said before, my dear Jack, there must be some mistake," returned the surgeon smoothly. Suddenly his face brightened. "Gendron, you made a mistake by leaving the hospital so soon. Your fighting in to-day's battle must have made you light-headed. You probably came here by mistake."
The bourgeois goes on, proud and content; his business prospers; he possesses the esteem and friendship of his own class; all this while, he is vilified by the lower classes, his name dragged in the dust, soiled by suppositions the most mischievous. Envy, Monsieur, respects nothing, no one." "If Laurence has been slandered," observed Dr. Gendron, smiling, "she has a good advocate to defend her."
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