Father Capel was there--a simple and learned ecclesiastic, with a smile and a pleasant greeting for old and young, for rich and poor alike. A benevolent, sweet-natured man, who, when trouble came to his door, received it with cheerful resignation; universally beloved; a man whose course through life was strewn with flowers of charity and kindness.
The visit of these and other guests was unexpected by Adelaide, and she inwardly resented the interruption to a contemplated quiet evening with Christian Almer; but outwardly she was all affability.
The principal topic of conversation was the trial of Gautran, and Pierre Lamont was enthusiastic on the theme.
"The trial will end this evening," he said, "and intellect will triumph."
"Truth, I trust, will triumph," said Jacob Hartrich, gravely.
"Intellect is truth's best champion," said Pierre Lamont. "But some mortals believe themselves to be omniscient, and set up a standard of truth which is independent of proof. I understood that you were to have been on the jury at the trial."
"I was excused," said Jacob Hartrich, "on the ground that I had already formed so strong a view of the guilt of the prisoner that no testimony could affect it."
"Decidedly," observed Pierre Lamont, "an unfit frame of mind to take part in a judicial inquiry of great difficulty. For my own part, I would willingly have given a year of my life, which cannot have too many years to run, to have been able to be in Geneva these last few days. It will be long before another trial so celebrated will take place in our courts."
"I am happy to think so."
"It has always been a puzzle to me," said Adelaide, whose feelings towards Pierre Lamont were of the most contradictory character--now inclining her to be exceedingly partial to him, now to detest him--"how such vulgar cases can excite the interest they do."