“I don’t blame him for accepting it, but as he has taken it, I blame him for keeping up his suit. And I don’t understand Mr. Roquevillard.”
“Oh, he knows his son is guilty, and he buys the jury’s indulgence in this way. As for Mr. Frasne, since conviction is always uncertain at trials, he prefers a bird in the hand to two in the bush. Besides, at the hearing, he will make capital out of this payment, as if it were an admission of guilt. It’s a very strong presumption.”
“It’s a great advantage to Frasne certainly. I can’t explain Roquevillard’s motives, but just the same he’s too experienced to leave such a weapon in his adversary’s hands without having taken precaution on his own part. The receipt which he must have demanded surely provides that if he discharges the obligation of a third party, it’s irrelevant whether that third party is his son or not.”
“As a matter of fact, the receipt does make this reservation, and in the most formal terms,” announced another lawyer, Mr. Paillet, coming up at this moment and entering into the discussion without loss of time.
“I supposed as much,” said Mr. Latache triumphantly. “And rather than affix his signature to a paper containing such a restriction, Mr. Frasne would have been better advised to leave it to the decision of the court.”
But Mr. Coulanges was not ready to surrender yet.
“What does such a receipt prove?” he objected. “Would you give up one hundred thousand francs for some one you didn’t know?”
The lookers-on agreed that he was right, and testified to their opinion by a flattering murmur of approval, as much as to say that indeed such a piece of generosity must have come from some imperious necessity. Nevertheless, his success was short-lived. Mr. Paillet swept it away for him like a conjurer making a nutmeg disappear before their eyes. He was a gay, round, fat man, who knew everything, poking in everywhere and telling everything he knew.
“I see,” he said, “that you don’t, any of you, know of Mr. Frasne’s finest stroke.”
“Tell us about it.”