This recollection was not of a nature to soften the hearts of the judges. The marshal, for that saying, had been deprived of his office, and condemned to three months’ imprisonment.
As the advocates made no further attempt to argue the case, the commission retired to deliberate. This gave M. d’Escorval an opportunity to speak with his defenders. He shook them warmly by the hand, and thanked them for their devotion and for their courage.
The good man wept.
Then the baron, turning to the oldest among them, quickly and in a low voice said:
“I have a last favor to ask of you. When the sentence of death shall have been pronounced upon me, go at once to my son. You will say to him that his dying father commands him to live; he will understand you. Tell him it is my last wish; that he live—live for his mother!”
He said no more; the judges were returning.
Of the thirty prisoners, nine were declared not guilty, and released.
The remaining twenty-one, and M. d’Escorval and Chanlouineau were among the number, were condemned to death.
But the smile had not once forsaken Chanlouineau’s lips.