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Updated: June 18, 2025
A few minutes later a rapid step approached in the passage; and Trumence appeared, the prisoner of whom Blangin had made an assistant, and whom Mechinet had employed to carry Jacques's letters to Dionysia. He was a tall well-made man of twenty-five or six years, whose large mouth and small eyes were perpetually laughing. A vagabond without hearth or home, Trumence had once been a land-owner.
If he dared to it, he would have his bed put across his cell in the prison." "That man hates me, M. Mechinet!" "Oh, no, madam! But he is ambitious: he thinks his success in his profession depends upon his success in this case; and he is afraid the accused might escape or be carried off." Mechinet was evidently in great perplexity, and scratched his ear. Then he added,
"Well, I see that the struggle will be a hard one, and that the result is still uncertain. Never mind. You may be sure I will not give way." In the meantime M. Folgat had spread out on the table all the papers he had brought with him, copies furnished by Mechinet, and notes taken during his rapid journey. "First of all, my dear client," he said, "I must inform you of what has been done."
"Day before yesterday he did not look upon me as the cause of a great misfortune for him." M. Mechinet went on quite eagerly, "After leaving M. Gransiere, I went to the court-house, and there I head the great piece of news which has set all the town agog. Count Claudieuse is dead." M. Daubigeon and M. Galpin looked at each other, and exclaimed in the same breath, "Great God! Is that so?"
"Write it down, Mechinet," said the commonwealth attorney with great eagerness, "write that down carefully." The clerk was sure to do it. "What surprised me most," continued Trumence, "was, that the countess seemed to consider M. Jacques guilty, and he thought she was. Each accused the other of the crime.
As he was unmarried, he lived with his sisters, the Misses Mechinet, who were the best dressmakers in town, and, moreover, devout members of all kinds of religious societies. Through them he heard all that was going on in society, and was able to compare the current gossip with what he heard in court, or at the newspaper office. Thus he could say pleasantly,
M. Daubigeon and M. Galpin had not yet recovered from their amazement at this account, when somebody knocked timidly at the door. "Come in!" cried Mechinet. The door opened, and the sergeant of gendarmes appeared. "I have been sent here by the attorney-general," he said; "and the servant told me you were up here. We have just caught Trumence." "That man who had escaped from jail?" "Yes.
In fact, Mechinet was a diplomat, working in secret, but as cunning as Talleyrand. He had succeeded already in making himself the one great personage of Sauveterre. The town was full of him; nothing was done without him; and yet he had not an enemy in the place. The fact is, people were afraid of him, and dreaded his terrible tongue.
Having once yielded to Dionysia's suggestions, Mechinet had, unconsciously, bound himself to her forever. "No: do not go there, madam," he said. "You could not make Blangin believe that he runs no danger; nor could you sufficiently arouse his cupidity. I will speak to him myself." "O sir!" exclaimed Dionysia, "how can I ever?" "How much may I offer him?" asked the clerk.
When I told Goudar the whole story, I no doubt mentioned the little gate in connection with Mechinet." Whilst they were chatting thus, they had reached the upper end of National Street. Here they stopped; and M. Magloire said, "One word before we part. Are you quite resolved to see the Countess Claudieuse?" "I have promised." "What do you propose telling her?" "I do not know.
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