“It seems to me,” continued M. Daburon, “that the Viscount de Commarin’s position has thereby become almost impregnable. Madame Gerdy is insane; the count will deny all; your letters prove nothing. It is evident that the crime is of the greatest service to this young man, and that it was committed at a singularly favourable moment.”
“Oh sir!” cried Noel, protesting with all his energy, “this insinuation is dreadful.”
The magistrate watched the advocate’s face narrowly. Was he speaking frankly, or was he but playing at being generous? Could it really be that he had never had any suspicion of this?
Noel did not flinch under the gaze, but almost immediately continued,—“What reason could this young man have for trembling, or fearing for his position? I did not utter one threatening word, even indirectly. I did not present myself like a man who, furious at being robbed, demands that everything which had been taken from him should be restored on the spot. I merely presented the facts to Albert, saying, ‘Here is the truth? what do you think we ought to do? Be the judge.’”
“And he asked you for time?”
“Yes. I had suggested his accompanying me to see Widow Lerouge, whose testimony might dispel all doubts; he did not seem to understand me. But he was well acquainted with her, having visited her with the count, who supplied her, I have since learned, liberally with money.”
“Did not this generosity appear to you very singular?”
“No.”
“Can you explain why the viscount did not appear disposed to accompany you?”
“Certainly. He had just said that he wished, before all, to have an explanation with his father, who was then absent, but who would return in a few days.”