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"And why?" asked the physician. Then taking down his spectacles, and wiping them diligently, he said, "Did you think, my dear young lady, that Jacques de Boiscoran's affair could be settled in five minutes? If they let you believe that, they did wrong. I, who despise all concealment, I will tell you the truth.
The obstinate peasant insists upon it that a lawsuit is always a sufficient reason for hating a man. And thereupon he undertakes to explain the lawsuit, and how Count Claudieuse, by stopping the water of the Seille, overflowed M. de Boiscoran's meadows. The president at last stops the discussion, and orders another witness to be brought in.
Ever since the day on which they had come to the conclusion that a false step might have the most fatal consequences, Jacques de Boiscoran's friends had abstained from doing anything. Besides, what would have been the use of any efforts? Dr.
In her heart she preserved all her usual energy; but the flesh escaped from her will and failed her at the last moment. "Are you sick?" asked the jailer. "What is the matter?" She prayed to God for courage and strength: when her prayer was finished, she said, "Now, let us go in." And, making a great noise with the keys and the bolts, Blangin opened the door to Jacques de Boiscoran's cell.
While her husband boasted that he had not read a newspaper for ten years, she had made her salon a kind of parliamentary centre, which had its influence on political affairs. Although Jacques de Boiscoran's parents were still alive, he possessed a considerable fortune of his own five or six thousand dollars a year.
If she does not speak to you, you keep on: something has happened. If she does speak to you, go up to her, you, quite alone, and she will show you into a small room which adjoins her own. There you will stay till Blangin, perhaps at a late hour, thinks he can safely take you to M. de Boiscoran's cell.
When the decisive moment arrived, he discovered that he would never be able to get the note into M. de Boiscoran's hands, without being caught by that lynx-eyed M. Galpin: as the letter was burning in his pocket, he saw himself compelled, after long hesitation, to appeal for help to the man who waited on Jacques, to Trumence, in fine.
"M. de Boiscoran's family is very rich, and they would prove their gratitude magnificently to the man who would save him." "And if I did not save him? And if, instead of gathering proof of his innocence, I should only meet with more evidence of his guilt?" The objection was so well founded, that M. Folgat preferred not to discuss it.
As he had been born in the family, and never left it afterwards, he looked upon himself as one of them, and saw no difference between his own interests and those of his master. In fact, he was treated less like a servant than like a friend; and he fancied he knew every thing about M. de Boiscoran's affairs.
The clerk's face expressed the most startled surprise. He said, "What! You know his name?" "Yes, I do; for Blangin mentioned him to me; and the name struck me the day when M. de Boiscoran's mother and I went to the jail, not knowing what was meant by 'close confinement." The clerk was disappointed. "Ah!" he said, "now I understand M. Galpin's great trouble.
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