"Certainly," said the old man, who could not however restrain his tears, and was obliged to repress his sob by a strong effort; "it is still pleasant enough, that I have not slept since the last three days, still less have I been able to enjoy anything: that my cursed imagination represents my unhappy son upon the scaffold, suffering the most ingenious martyrdom, and looking upon me with the same dark eyes that sparkled in his childhood when he ardently desired a fruit, or a toy. I believe too that I look rather pale and sorrowful, and whatever you may ordain, I shall bear my head heavily on my weary shoulders for the future."
"You know then that your son as well as the young Edmond has gone over to the rebels?" said the Intendant sharply with his icy coldness: "and who will assure us that this did not happen by your counsel and suggestions?"
"No man will be security for me," answered, the father with quiet composure, "and of myself, of my many years of probity and an assurance, by my honour, I will not even speak, for that appears to myself absurd. No, my highly honoured lords, my counsel would never have been able to produce so strange a metamorphosis in a vagabond, who has hitherto only interested himself in plants and antiquities, or to make of a catholic enthusiast a fanatic and a rebel; but if I may be permitted to speak for a moment as a father, it rather appears to me, that you, my most worthy judges, are the authors of it, without its being exactly your intention it is true, and may be the cause why so many other fanatics will run to the mountains."
"Well, this impudence," exclaimed the Marshal.
"Suffer the unhappy man to speak," interrupted the Intendant, "he is doting in his sorrow, and it is not unreasonable to hear all that he may bring forward for his defence." "I only say," continued Vila, "that, with the very best intentions to put down this rebellion, you add strength to it, for it is precisely the peculiarity and perversity of the human mind, (and in this I only say what has been of very old standing) that prohibitions and obstructions irritate and place the punishable case in a seductive, enchanting light. That, which at first appeared indifferent and often unimportant, now presents itself with a kind of glory, danger entices; if only a few victims deriding it, have fallen, passions master the heart, and the same, who a short time previously preserved his faith in silent doubt, feels now in each emotion of caprice, and of anger, the immediate voice of his persecuted God. He now refutes his adversary with murder and massacre, as if he would correct the erroneous reading of his mind in his mangled body. The true believer cannot naturally bear such a turning over the leaf, he waits with stump and stalk to root out of the breast the perverted and corrupted text. On both sides the commentators excite one another, each becomes fiercer and more violent, reconciliation is no longer to be thought of, instruction profits not, and whoever wishes to step in coolly and moderately between them is a horror to both parties. You see indeed all the pills, that you, my honoured Lord Marshal cause to be turned and moulded and which the thousand surgeons press Upon the perverted, have not purged them of the evil, nor even ameliorated it. What does it profit then that the busy men so diligently assist with their bayonets, nor do these lances, nor the incisions of the gentlemen dragoons improve the blood. Also your imprisonments and executions in the public places have no success. What can your reasoning, your cold, calm persuasions effect, that the whole country, frankly speaking, stands like a great, disbanded madhouse, where the lunatics with their dogmas rage against one another, and like dogs, set on to fight, gnash with their teeth. I think the air is infectuous, and renders insane, and thus it has happened to young Edmond and my poor son. Whom the devil rides, cannot certainly affirm that he possesses an abundance of free will to go and come; but what could have bribed me to lay the stirrup on the shoulders of my only son, in order that the black raven father of all lies might be able to mount him more comfortably? only reflect on that yourselves, generous men."
"I but half understand you," said the Marshal.
"I pardon much in consideration of your grief," replied the Intendant.
"But why as not the Lord of Beauvais appeared at our trial?" recommenced the general; "wherefore is he fled? Does not that action bespeak him criminal? and do you know anything of him and of his retreat? can you impart to us some information of his proceedings? do you keep him concealed? confess the whole truth."
"Your excellency," said the doctor, "the old sinner has assuredly escaped because he is indeed suspected, even by me, and certainly could not appear here with safety and decency."
"Proceed," said the Lord of Basville, "you are approaching nearer the point to my satisfaction."