The young lawyer spoke in that short, imperious tone which is, so to say, the privilege of his profession, and with such an accent of assurance, that M. de Chandore felt his hopes revive. M. Seneschal was sorely troubled.
“And what do you think, sir?” he asked.
“That M. de Boiscoran must be innocent,” replied the young advocate. And, without leaving time for objections, he continued,—
“That is the opinion of a man who is not influenced by any consideration. I come here without any preconceived notions. I do not know Count Claudieuse any more than M. de Boiscoran. A crime has been committed: I am told the circumstances; and I at once come to the conclusion that the reasons which led to the arrest of the accused would lead me to set him at liberty.”
“Oh!”
“Let me explain. If M. de Boiscoran is guilty, he has shown, in the way in which he received M. Galpin at the house, a perfectly unheard-of self-control, and a matchless genius for comedy. Therefore, if he is guilty, he is immensely clever”—
“But.”
“Allow me to finish. If he is guilty, he has in the examination shown a marvellous want of self-control, and, to be brief, a nameless stupidity: therefore, if he is guilty, he is immensely stupid”—
“But.”
“Allow me to finish. Can one and the same person be at once so unusually clever and so unusually stupid? Judge yourself. But again: if M. de Boiscoran is guilty, he ought to be sent to the insane asylum, and not to prison; for any one else but a madman would have poured out the dirty water in which he had washed his blackened hands, and would have buried anywhere that famous breech-loader, of which the prosecution makes such good use.”