Seignebos. The doctor, in the name of outraged society, as he called it, and in the name of justice and humanity, demanded the immediate arrest of Cocoleu, that wretch whose unconscious statement formed the basis of the accusation. He demanded with a furious oath that the epileptic idiot should be sent to the hospital, and kept there so as to be professionally examined by experts. The mayor had for some time refused to grant the request, which seemed to him unreasonable; but he doctor had talked so loud and insisted so strongly, that at last he had sent two gendarmes to Brechy with orders to bring back Cocoleu.
They had returned several hours later with empty hands. The idiot had disappeared; and no one in the whole district had been able to give any information as to this whereabouts.
"And you think that is natural?" exclaimed Dr. Seignebos, whose eyes were glaring at the mayor from under his spectacles. "To me that looks like an absolute proof that a plot has been hatched to ruin M. de Boiscoran.""But can't you be quiet?" M. Seneschal said angrily. "Do you think Cocoleu is lost? He will turn up again."The doctor had left him without insisting any longer; but before going home, he had dropped in at his club, and there, in the presence of twenty people he had declared that he had positive proof of a plot formed against M. de Boiscoran, whom the Monarchists had never forgiven for having left them; and that the Jesuits were certainly mixed up with the business.
This interference was more injurious than useful to Jacques; and the consequences were soon seen. That same evening, when M. Galpin crossed the New-Market Place, he was wantonly insulted. Very naturally he went, almost in a fury, to call upon the mayor, to hold him responsible for this insult offered to Justice in his person, and asking for energetic punishment. M. Seneschal promised to take the proper measures, and went to the commonwealth attorney to act in concert with him. There he learned what had happened at Boiscoran, and the terrible result of the examination.
So he had come home, quite sorrowful, distressed at Jacques's situation, and very much disturbed by the political aspect which the matter was beginning to wear. He had spent a bad night, and in the morning had displayed such fearful temper, that his wife had hardly dared to say a word to him. But even that was not all. At two o'clock precisely, the funeral of Bolton and Guillebault was to take place;and he had promised Capt. Parenteau that he would be present in his official costume, and accompanied by the whole municipal council. He had already given orders to have his uniform gotten ready, when the servant announced visitors,--M. de Chandore and friend.
"That was all that was wanting!" he exclaimed But, thinking it over, he added,--"Well, it had to come sooner r later. Show them in!"M. Seneschal was too good to be so troubled in advance, and to prepare himself for a heart-rending scene. He was amazed at the easy, almost cheerful manner with which M. de Chandore presented to him his companion.
"M. Manuel Folgat, my dear Seneschal, a famous lawyer from Paris, who has been kind enough to come down with the Marchioness de Boiscoran.""I am a stranger here, M. Seneschal," said Folgat: "I do not know the manner of thinking, the customs, the interests, the prejudices, of this country; in fact, I am totally ignorant, and I know I would commit many a grievous blunder, unless I could secure the assistance of an able and experienced counsellor. M. de Boiscoran and M. de Chandore have both encouraged me to hope that I might find such a man in you.""Certainly, sir, and with all my heart," replied M. Seneschal, bowing politely, and evidently flattered by this deference on the part of a great Paris lawyer.
He had offered his guests seats. He had sat down himself, and resting his elbow on the arm of his big office-chair, he rubbed his clean-shaven chin with his hand.
"This is a very serious matter, gentlemen," he said at last.
"A criminal charge is always serious," replied M. Folgat.
"Upon my word," cried M. de Chandore, "you are not in doubt about Jacques's innocence?"M. Seneschal did not say, No. He was silent, thinking of the wise remarks made by his wife the evening before.
"How can we know," he began at last, "what may be going on in young brains of twenty-five when they are set on fire by the remembrance of certain insults! Wrath is a dangerous counsellor."Grandpapa Chandore refused to hear any more.
"What! do you talk to me of wrath?" he broke in; "and what do you see of wrath in this Valpinson affair? I see nothing in it, for my part, but the very meanest crime, long prepared and coolly carried out."The mayor very seriously shook his head, and said,--"You do not know all that has happened."
"Sir," added M. Folgat, "it is precisely for the purpose of hearing what has happened that we come to you.""Very well," said M. Seneschal.
Thereupon he went to work to describe the events which he had witnessed at Valpinson, and those, which, as he had learned from the commonwealth attorney, had taken place at Boiscoran; and this he did with all the lucidity of an experienced old lawyer who is accustomed to unravel the mysteries of complicated suits. He wound up by saying,--"Finally, do you know what Daubigeon said to me, whose evidence you will certainly know how to appreciate? He said in so many words, 'Galpin could not but order the arrest of M. de Boiscoran. Is he guilty? I do not know what to think of it. The accusation is overwhelming. He swears by all the gods that he is innocent; but he will not tell how he spent the night.' "M. de Chandore, in spite of his vigor, was near fainting, although his face remained as crimson as ever. Nothing on earth could make him turn pale.
"Great God!" he murmured, "what will Dionysia say?"Then, turning to M. Folgat, he said aloud,--"And yet Jacques had something in his mind for that evening.""Do you think so?"
