“But there is one of these apes,” he went on, “who, in length of ears and thickness of skin, surpasses all the others. Well, he is the very one whom the court has chosen and associated with me.”
Upon this subject it was desirable to put a check upon the doctor. M. de Chandore therefore interrupted him, saying,—
“In fine”—
“In fine, my learned brother is fully persuaded that his mission as a physician employed by a court of justice is to say ‘Amen’ to all the stories of the prosecution. ‘Cocoleu is an idiot,’ says M. Galpin peremptorily. ‘He is an idiot, or ought to be one,’ reechoes my learned brother. ‘He spoke on the occasion of the crime by an inspiration from on high,’ the magistrate goes on to say. ‘Evidently,’ adds the brother, ‘there was an inspiration from on high.’ For this is the conclusion at which my learned brother arrives in his report: ‘Cocoleu is an idiot who had been providentially inspired by a flash of reason.’ He does not say it in these words; but it amounts to the same thing.”
He had taken off his spectacles, and was wiping them industriously.
“But what do you think, doctor?” asked M. Folgat.
Dr. Seignebos solemnly put on again his spectacles, and replied coldly,—
“My opinion, which I have fully developed in my report, is, that Cocoleu is not idiotic at all.”
M. Chandore started: the proposition seemed to him monstrous. He knew Cocoleu very well; he had seen him wander through the streets of Sauveterre during the eighteen months which the poor creature had spent under the doctor’s treatment.
“What! Cocoleu not idiotic?” he repeated.