Up to the present, he had felt himself steeped in an unadulterated contempt for all the persons who were present at the trial. This sentiment of disgust was intensified by the stale eloquence of the advocate-general. But the coldness of Julien’s soul gradually disappeared before the marks of interest of which he was evidently the object.
He was satisfied with the sturdy demeanour of his advocate. “No phrases,” he said to him in a whisper, as he was about to commence his speech.
“All the bombast which our opponent has stolen from Bossuet and lavished upon you,” said the advocate, “has done you good.”
As a matter of fact, he had scarcely spoken for five minutes before practically all the women had their handkerchiefs in their hands. The advocate was encouraged, and addressed some extremely strong remarks to the jury. Julien shuddered. He felt on the point of breaking into tears. “My God,” he thought, “what would my enemies say?”
He was on the point of succumbing to the emotion which was overcoming him, when, luckily for him, he surprised an insolent look from M. the baron de Valenod.
“That rogue’s eyes are gleaming,” he said to himself “What a triumph for that base soul! If my crime had only produced this one result, it would be my duty to curse it. God knows what he will say about it to madame de Rênal.”
This idea effaced all others. Shortly afterwards Julien was brought back to reality by the public’s manifestation of applause. The advocate had just finished his speech. Julien remembered that it was good form to shake hands with him. The time had passed rapidly.
They brought in refreshments for the advocate and the prisoner. It was only then that Julien was struck by the fact that none of the women had left the audience to go and get dinner.
“Upon my word, I am dying of hunger,” said the advocate. “And you?”
“I, too,” answered Julien.