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Updated: May 18, 2025
A small gray-haired man, jovial and cheerful, came running up, and at once proceeded to tell at full length how a neighbor had told him what had happened, and how the magistrate had left town, whereupon he, also, had started on foot, and come after him as fast as he could. "Now will you go to Boiscoran?" asked the mayor. "I do not know yet. Mechinet will have to look for some conveyance."
But all these enemies he had gradually conquered by the unmistakable superiority of his ability; so that they fell in with the universal habit, and, when any thing special happened, said to each other, "Let us go and consult Mechinet." He himself concealed, under an appearance of imperturbable good nature, the ambition by which he was devoured: he wanted to become rich, and to rise in the world.
"Above all, take care of Caraby," begged M. Seneschal, who at the last moment felt almost overcome with anxiety for his favorite. "Don't be afraid, sir," replied the young man, as he started the horse. "If I strike too hard, M. Mechinet will stop me." This Mechinet, the magistrate's clerk, was almost a power in Sauveterre; and the greatest personages there paid their court to him.
"Yes, you are right," replied the girl. "I come to talk to you abut M. de Boiscoran, my betrothed, my husband." She paused; and for a minute Mechinet and the young girl remained there face to face, silent and immovable, looking at each other, he asking himself what she could want of him, and she trying to guess how far she might venture.
With infinite care the magistrate carried the basin to the table at which Mechinet had taken a sea; and, pointing at it, he asked M. de Boiscoran, "Is that the water in which you washed your hands last night after coming home?" "Yes," replied the other with an air of careless indifference. "You had been handling charcoal, or some inflammable material." "Don't you see?"
Farewell to all ambitious dreams, all hopes of wealth, all dreams of an advantageous marriage. And still, by an odd contradiction, Mechinet did not repent what he had done, and felt quite ready to do it over again. He was in this state of mind when the old nurse brought him Dionysia's letter. "What, again?" he exclaimed. And when he had read the few lines, he replied,
Why, also, should he excite new hopes, when they must needs wait patiently till it should seem good to M. Galpin to make an end to this melancholy suspense? They heard very little nowadays of Jacques de Boiscoran. The examinations took place only at long intervals; and it was sometimes four or five days before Mechinet brought another letter.
I am no further advanced than I was the first day." "Let us hope you will have more luck here." "I hope so; but I need your assistance to commence operations. I must see Dr. Seignebos, and Mechinet the clerk. Ask them to meet me at the place I shall assign in a note which I will send them." "I will tell them."
With such anxiety on his mind, the most cruel that can tear the heart of an ambitious man, M. Galpin found his pillow stuffed with thorns. He had been up since six o'clock. At eleven, he had sent for his clerk, Mechinet; and they had gone together to the jail to recommence the examination. It was then that the jailer had handed him the prisoner's letter for Dionysia.
Mechinet trembled. "Take care not to do so," he said. "The good people of Sauveterre are too cunning not to know that just now you are not thinking much of dress; and your calls here would look suspicious. Leave it to me to see to it that you get M. de Boiscoran's answer." While Dionysia was writing, the clerk had made a parcel of the bonds which she had brought. He handed it to her, and said,
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