“I see it but too clearly.”
“If you were on a jury, you would not hesitate to pronounce a man guilty upon such evidence.”
“No, sir, no!”
The commonwealth attorney bounded from his chair. He said,—
“You are not sincere!”
M. de Boiscoran sadly shook his head, and replied,—
“I speak to you without the slightest hope of convincing you, but in all sincerity. No, I should not condemn a man, as you say, if he asserted his innocence, and if I did not see any reason for his crime. For, after all, unless a man is mad, he does not commit a crime for nothing. Now I ask you, how could I, upon whom fortune has always smiled; I who am on the eve of marrying one whom I love passionately,—how could I have set Valpinson on fire, and tried to murder Count Claudieuse?”
M. Galpin had scarcely been able to disguise his impatience, when he saw the attorney take part in the affair. Seizing, therefore, the opportunity to interfere, he said,—
“Your reason, sir, was hatred. You hated the count and the countess mortally. Do not protest: it is of no use. Everybody knows it; and you yourself have told me so.”
M. de Boiscoran looked as if he were growing still more pale, and then replied in a tone of crushing disdain,—