When I was well enough to get about again, I received a visit from Maître Aubin. Somehow, the mere sight of him made me angry. I told him that he was responsible for all that had happened; that he should have allowed and even advised me to tell M. André everything about the Faure documents and the necklace, about M. de Balincourt and the mysterious "German." I accused him of having sold himself to the Government, of having merely carried out their instructions....
Maître Aubin waited until I had flung my last accusation at him. Then, quietly, he explained that he was an honest and independent man, and that he feared no one. "You have only suspicions against M. de Balincourt, just as you had against Wolff and Couillard; and you know where those suspicions led you.... As for that German, although your servants, Marthe and others, saw him, it would be well nigh impossible to trace him. And you could not assert that he had something to do with the murder.... Treat me as you choose; you have suffered so much that it would be extraordinary if you had kept your full self-possession. All I can say is that you will be triumphantly acquitted. There will remain no trace of suspicion against you, and that is what is needed above all."
He spoke for a long time, and I apologised for my anger. Maître Aubin was profoundly devoted, and I should never have turned on him as I had done.
In spite of the hope my counsel gave me, in spite of Marthe's love, M. Arboux's and the Sisters' exhortations, I fell seriously ill, and for over three weeks there were serious fears for my life. After a time, Marthe was allowed to visit me again, and she besought me to be brave, to make a supreme effort. I had been eight months in prison, I should try to grow used to the thought of remaining at Saint-Lazare three or four months longer, since victory was at the end.
"But the victory," my daughter explained in deep, powerful tones that contrasted so strongly with her slim, small figure, "can only be won if you work on the dossier of your case. You will have to ask for that dossier, and study it most carefully for your own defence. M. Aubin says so, and he knows."
She compelled me to eat, to take the various remedies ordered by the doctor and, seeing her so brave, I did my best to recover, and to call up courage and hope in the ordeal before me.
Soon afterwards, I was told that M. de Valles would be the Chief Judge at my trial, and M. Trouard-Riolle the Advocate-General (Public Prosecutor).
I had never met M. de Valles, but I was informed that he was a viscount, a grandson of Charles d'Hozier, "the last genealogist of France," and a descendant of another famous genealogist, Pierre d'Hozier, who, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, founded, with Renaudot and Richelieu, the Gazette, France's first newspaper. I also heard that he was an able archæologist, a learned Latinist, whose greatest joy was to sit in his library in the company of Horace, Lucretius, or the immortal Virgil, that he was a worthy, able, and extremely fair judge.
About M. Trouard-Riolle I needed no information. I had met him in various drawing-rooms at intervals for some fifteen years. I had known his beautiful and fascinating wife quite well, and I knew all about M. Trouard-Riolle's career, from the days he had left the Lycée at Rouen and had become a Doctor of Law, to the time when he was made an Advocate-General.
A few days later I was called down-stairs to the Director's study. When I entered the little room I knew so well, I saw, near M. Pons, a tall, well-dressed man of about fifty with clean-cut features, clear eyes, grey hair and beard, and an expression of great firmness and refinement.