A POOR ADVOCATE
The Prince, as Colonel of the company, came specially to Troyes by the desire of Collinot, though the trouble bored him, for he liked Germain, and would never have raised the question concerning his birth had it merely come to his knowledge without the scandal of formal charges. To keep the company in as aristocratic shape as possible as part of his establishment was a thing in which his princely éclat was concerned. He came bringing with him his wife's father, the Duke of Beauveau, Marshal of France. The Marshal, whose white hair, stately form, and liberal ideas were universally blessed throughout the kingdom, was a man of singular firmness and kindness in what he considered to be right. He it was who, as Viceroy of Languedoc, had released the fourteen Huguenot women who, on account of their religion, had languished in the dungeons of the Tower of Constance till their heads became blanched with age, and who had fallen at his feet when the Tower was opened for his inspection. The frantic demands of bigotry and the repeated orders of the Minister on that occasion produced no effect upon his pitying heart.
"For justice and humanity," he answered, "plead in favour of these poor creatures, and I refuse to return them under any less than the direct order of the King." The King, to his credit—it was Louis XV.—stood firm also. Beauveau it was, likewise, who refused support to Maupéou's infamous scheme to stifle the whole magistracy and rule the country without a court of justice.
The garrison of Troyes and the company considered the advent of the Marshal their opportunity for a grand review, and an invitation had been sent to the company de Villeroy, who came over from Châlons. Nominally the Lecour affair did not enter into the consideration of the authorities, but there was no doubt that it was the grand topic of excitement among both corps of the Bodyguard.
At ten of the clock—the appointed hour—the Marshal, accompanied by the Prince, entered the hall where Germain stood ready for the investigation. The breast of the old Commandant was covered with stars and well-earned distinctions, and the glittering Order of the Holy Ghost, with its crust of great diamonds, scintillated upon it. Before him, on the table was Germain's document-box open. Collinot sat beside it, examining the papers, one after another. Nobody else was present.
The Marshal was given the great chair of honour, and the Prince another beside him. The latter sat furtive and uncomfortable. Lecour experienced a sensation of his own immense inferiority to the grand soldier who was sitting as his judge, and he felt helpless and uncertain in such hands.
"Adjutant," began the Marshal, "where are the parties? Is this gentleman Monsieur de Lincy?"
Collinot assented. Germain bowed and turned ghostly white.
"Have you examined his credentials, and how do you find them?"
"They appear correct, my Lord Duke."