“Oh!”
“Master may have been mistaken as to the time when he last fired the gun, and then the barrels would be soiled; and, instead of helping him, my evidence might ruin him definitely. Before I say any thing, I ought to be sure.”
“Yes,” said Folgat, approvingly, “and you have done well to keep silence, my good man, and I cannot urge you too earnestly not to say a word of it to any one. That fact may become a decisive argument for the defence.”
“Oh! I can keep my tongue, sir. Only you may imagine how impatient it has made me to see these accursed seals which prevent me from going to look at the gun. Oh, if I had dared to break one of them!”
“Poor fellow!”
“I thought of doing it; but I checked myself. Then it occurred to me that other people might think of the same thing. The rascals who have formed this abominable plot against Master Jacques are capable of any thing, don’t you think so? Why might not they come some night, and break the seals? I put the steward on guard in the garden, beneath the windows. I put his son as a sentinel into the courtyard; and I have myself stood watch before the seals with arms in my hands all the time. Let the rascals come on; they will find somebody to receive them.”
In spite of all that is said, lawyers are better than their reputation. Lawyers, accused of being sceptics above all men, are, on the contrary, credulous and simple-minded. Their enthusiasm is sincere; and, when we think they play a part, they are in earnest. In the majority of cases, they fancy their own side the just one, even though they should be beaten. Hour by hour, ever since his arrival at Sauveterre, M. Folgat’s faith in Jacques’s innocence had steadily increased. Old Anthony’s tale was not made to shake his growing conviction. He did not admit the existence of a plot, however; but he was not disinclined to believe in the cunning calculations of some rascal, who, availing himself of circumstances known to him alone, tried to let all suspicion fall upon M. de Boiscoran, instead of himself.
But there were many more questions to be asked; and Anthony was in such a state of feverish excitement, that it was difficult to induce him to answer. For it is not so easy to examine a man, however inclined he may be to answer. It requires no small self-possession, much care, and an imperturbable method, without which the most important facts are apt to be overlooked. M. Folgat began, therefore, after a moment’s pause, once more, saying,—
“My good Anthony, I cannot praise your conduct in this matter too highly. However, we have not done with it yet. But as I have eaten nothing since I left Paris last night, and as I hear the bell strike twelve o’clock”—
M. de Chandore seemed to be heartily ashamed, and broke in,—