“What do his counsel say?”
“I do not know. But I have just sent my clerk to find out; and, if you choose to wait”—
M. Daubigeon did wait, and he did well; for M. Mechinet came in very soon after, with a long face for the world, but inwardly delighted.
“Well?” asked M. Galpin eagerly.
He shook his head, and said in a melancholy tone of voice,—
“I have never seen any thing like this. How fickle public opinion is, after all! Day before yesterday M. de Boiscoran could not have passed through the town without being mobbed. If he should show himself to-day, they would carry him in triumph. He has been condemned, and now he is a martyr. It is known already that the sentence is void, and they are delighted. My sisters have just told me that the ladies in good society propose to give to the Marchioness de Boiscoran and to Miss Chandore some public evidence of their sympathy. The members of the bar will give M. Folgat a public dinner.”
“Why that is monstrous!” cried M. Galpin.
“Well,” said M. Daubigeon, “‘the opinions of men are more fickle and changeable than the waves of the sea.’”
But, interrupting the quotation, M. Galpin asked his clerk,—
“Well, what else?”