“That is useless, sir. I know.”
“You know, madam, that he has been summoned to trial, and that he may be condemned?”
She shook her head with a painful movement, and said very softly,—
“I know, sir, that Count Claudieuse has been the victim of a most infamous attempt at murder; that he is still in danger, and that, unless God works a miracle, I shall soon be without a husband, and my children without a father.”
“But M. de Boiscoran is innocent, madam.”
The features of the countess assumed an expression of profound surprise; and, looking fixedly at M. Folgat, she said,—
“And who, then, is the murderer?”
Ah! It cost the young advocate no small effort to prevent his lips from uttering the fatal word, “You,” prompted by his indignant conscience. But he thought of the success of his mission; and, instead of replying, he said,—
“To a prisoner, madam, to an unfortunate man on the eve of judgment, an advocate is a confessor, to whom he tells every thing. I must add that the counsel of the accused is like a priest: he must forget the secrets which have been confided to him.”
“I do not understand, sir.”