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Is it my fault if the author of this crime is an old friend of mine, and if I was once upon a time on the point of marrying a relation of his? There is no one in court who doubts M. de Boiscoran's guilt; there is no one who dares blame me: and yet they are all as cold as ice towards me." "Such is the world," said M. Daubigeon with a face full of irony. "They praise virtue; but they hate it."
Seignebos frowned till he looked formidable. "Not an hour," he replied; "and I go from here to M. Daubigeon, the commonwealth attorney." Thereupon, taking his hat and cane, he bowed and left, as dissatisfied as possible, without stopping even to answer M. de Chandore, who asked him how Count Claudieuse was, who was, according to reports in town, getting worse and worse.
But this last question seemed to him to go beyond all fair limits. He replied, therefore, in a tone of injured self-respect, "I am not in the habit of asking my master where he goes when he leaves the house, nor where he has been when he comes back." M. Daubigeon understood perfectly well the honorable feelings which actuated the faithful servant.
He ignored it, handed him a number of papers to sign; and when his business was over, and while he was carefully replacing the documents in his bag with his monogram on the outside, he added with an air of indifference, "Well, my dear sir, you have heard the decision of the court? Which of us was right?" M. Daubigeon shrugged his shoulders, and said angrily,
And, unluckily, he went once more over all the papers of the investigation, analyzing the evidence he had, like a soldier, who, on the eve of a battle, furbishes up his arms. However, he only found one objection, the same which M. Daubigeon had made, what interest could Jacques have had in committing so great a crime?
M. Folgat and M. Magloire were charged with the pleasant duty of informing the prisoner of this happy news. They found him walking up and down in his cell like a madman, devoured by unspeakable anguish, and not knowing what to make of the words of hope which M. Daubigeon had spoken to him in the morning.
"Ah, that is not so," exclaimed M. Magloire, "you know very well." Jacques did not seem to hear him. He went on, "Friends? Oh, yes! I had friends in my days of prosperity. There was M. Galpin and M. Daubigeon: they were my friends. One has become my judge, the most cruel and pitiless of judges; and the other, who is commonwealth attorney, has not even made an effort to come to my assistance.
"Take the counsel to the prisoner Boiscoran," said M. Galpin dryly, fearing, perhaps, that M. Daubigeon might regale the public with all the bitter epigrams with which he persecuted him privately. The jailer bowed to the ground, and obeyed the order; but, as soon as he was alone with M. Folgat in the porch of the building, he blew up his cheek, and then tapped it, saying, "Cheated all around."
Perhaps her intervention would have been of no avail, if M. Seneschal and M. Daubigeon had not stepped in, each addressing one of the two adversaries. M. Galpin was apparently the most obstinate of the two; for, in spite of all, he began once more to question the count, and said,
M. Galpin was beginning to regret that he had ever come. He had hoped to find M. Daubigeon quite penitent, and here he was worse than ever. "The Court of Inquiry has felt no such scruples," he said dryly. "No; but the jury may feel some. They are, occasionally, men of sense." "The jury will condemn M. de Boiscoran without hesitation." "I would not swear to that."
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