"Just listen!"

The young advocate could not help shuddering as he heard the account given by Jacques of what had happened the night before. And when it was finished, he said,--

"You are right. If Count Claudieuse carries out his threat, it may be a condemnation."

"It must be a condemnation, you mean. Well, you need not doubt. He will carry out his threat."

And shaking his head with an air of desolation, he added,--

"And the most formidable part of it is this: I cannot blame him for doing it. The jealousy of husbands is often nothing more than self-love.

When they find they have been deceived, their vanity is offended; but their heart remains whole. But in this case it is very different. He not only loved his wife, he worshipped her. She was his happiness, life itself. When I took her from him, I robbed him of all he had,--yes, of all! I never knew what adultery meant till I saw him overcome with shame and rage. He was left without any thing in a moment. His wife had a lover: his favorite daughter was not his own! I suffer terribly; but it is nothing, I am sure, in comparison with what he suffers. And you expect, that, holding a weapon in his hand, he should not use it? It is a treacherous, dishonest weapon, to be sure; but have I been frank and honest? It would be a mean, ign.o.ble vengeance, you will say; but what was the offence? In his place, I dare say, I should do as he does."

M. Folgat was thunderstruck.

"But after that," he asked, "when you left the house?"

Jacques pa.s.sed his hand mechanically over his forehead, as if to gather his thoughts, and then went on,--

"After that I fled precipitately, like a man who has committed a crime.

The garden-door was open, and I rushed out. I could not tell you with certainty in what direction I ran, through what streets I pa.s.sed. I had but one fixed idea,--to get away from that house as quickly and as far as possible. I did not know what I was doing. I went, I went. When I came to myself, I was many miles away from Sauveterre, on the road to Boiscoran. The instinct of the animal within me had guided me on the familiar way to my house. At the first moment I could not comprehend how I had gotten there. I felt like a drunkard whose head is filled with the vapors of alcohol, and who, when he is roused, tries to remember what has happened during his intoxication. Alas! I recalled the fearful reality but too soon. I knew that I ought to go back to prison, that it was an absolute necessity; and yet I felt at times so weary, so exhausted, that I was afraid I should not be able to get back. Still I did reach the prison. Blangin was waiting for me, all anxiety; for it was nearly two o'clock. He helped me to get up here. I threw myself, all dressed as I was, on my bed, and I fell fast asleep in an instant. But my sleep was a miserable sleep, broken by terrible dreams, in which I saw myself chained to the galleys, or mounting the scaffold with a priest by my side; and even at this moment I hardly know whether I am awake or asleep, and whether I am not still suffering under a fearful nightmare."

M. Folgat could hardly conceal a tear. He murmured,--

"Poor man!"

"Oh, yes, poor man indeed!" repeated Jacques. "Why did I not follow my first inspiration last night when I found myself on the high-road. I should have gone on to Boiscoran, I should have gone up stairs to my room, and there I should have blown out my brains. I should then suffer no more."

Was he once more giving himself up to that fatal idea of suicide?

"And your parents," said M. Folgat.

"My parents! And do you think they will survive my condemnation?"

"And Miss Chandore?"

He shuddered, and said fiercely,--

"Ah! it is for her sake first of all that I ought to make an end of it.

Poor Dionysia! Certainly she would grieve terribly when she heard of my suicide. But she is not twenty yet. My memory would soon fade in her heart; and weeks growing into months, and months into years, she would find comfort. To live means to forget."

"No! You cannot really think what you are saying!" broke in M. Folgat.

"You know very well that she--she would never forget you!"

A tear appeared in the eyes of the unfortunate man, and he said in a half-smothered voice,--

"You are right. I believe to strike me down means to strike her down also. But do you think what life would be after a condemnation? Can you imagine what her sensations would be, if day after day she had to say to herself, 'He whom alone I love upon earth is at the galleys, mixed up with the lowest of criminals, disgraced for life, dishonored.' Ah! death is a thousand times preferable."

"Jacques, M. de Boiscoran, do you forget that you have given me your word of honor?"

"The proof that I have not forgotten it is that you see me here. But, never mind, the day is not very far off when you will see me so wretched that you yourself will be the first to put a weapon into my hands."

But the young advocate was one of those men whom difficulties only excite and stimulate, instead of discouraging. He had already recovered somewhat from the first great shock, and he said,--

"Before you throw down your hand, wait, at least, till the game is lost.

You are not sentenced yet. Far from it! You are innocent, and there is divine justice. Who tells us that Count Claudieuse will really give evidence? We do not even know whether he has not, at this moment, drawn his last breath upon earth!"

Jacques leaped up as if in a spasm, and turning deadly pale, exclaimed,--

"Ah, don't say that! That fatal thought has already occurred to me, that perhaps he did not rise again last night. Would to G.o.d that that be not so! for then I should but too surely be an a.s.sa.s.sin. He was my first thought when I awoke. I thought of sending out to make inquiries. But I did not dare do it."

M. Folgat felt his heart oppressed with most painful anxiety, like the prisoner himself. Hence he said at once,--

"We cannot remain in this uncertainty. We can do nothing as long as the count's fate is unknown to us; for on his fate depends ours. Allow me to leave you now. I will let you know as soon as I hear any thing positive.

And, above all, keep up your courage, whatever may happen."

The young advocate was sure of finding reliable information at Dr.

Seignebos's house. He hastened there; and, as soon as he entered, the physician cried,--

"Ah, there you are coming at last! I give up twenty of my worst patients to see you, and you keep me waiting forever. I was sure you would come.

What happened last night at Count Claudieuse's house?"

"Then you know"--

"I know nothing. I have seen the results; but I do not know the cause.

The result was this: last night, about eleven o'clock, I had just gone to bed, tired to death, when, all of a sudden, somebody rings my bell as if he were determined to break it. I do not like people to perform so violently at my door; and I was getting up to let the man know my mind, when Count Claudieuse's servant rushed in, pushing my own servant unceremoniously aside, and cried out to me to come instantly, as his master had just died."

"Great G.o.d!"

"That is what I said, because, although I knew the count was very ill, I did not think he was so near death."

"Then, he is really dead?"

"Not at all. But, if you interrupt me continually, I shall never be able to tell you."

And taking off his spectacles, wiping them, and putting them on again, he went on,--

"I was dressed in an instant, and in a few minutes I was at the house.

They asked me to go into the sitting-room down stairs. There I found, to my great amazement, Count Claudieuse, lying on a sofa. He was pale and stiff, his features fearfully distorted, and on his forehead a slight wound, from which a slender thread of blood was trickling down. Upon my word I thought it was all over."

"And the countess?"

"The countess was kneeling by her husband; and, with the help of her women, she was trying to resuscitate him by rubbing him, and putting hot napkins on his chest. But for these wise precautions she would be a widow at this moment; whilst, as it is, he may live a long time yet.

This precious count has a wonderful tenacity of life. We, four of us, then took him and carried him up stairs, and put him to bed, after having carefully warmed it first. He soon began to move; he opened his eyes; and a quarter of an hour later he had recovered his consciousness, and spoke readily, though with a somewhat feeble voice. Then, of course, I asked what had happened, and for the first time in my life I saw the marvellous self-possession of the countess forsake her. She stammered pitifully, looking at her husband with a most frightened air, as if she wished to read in his eyes what she should say. He undertook to answer me; but he, also was evidently very much embarra.s.sed. He said, that being left alone, and feeling better than usual, he had taken it into his head to try his strength. He had risen, put on his dressing-gown, and gone down stairs; but, in the act of entering the room, he had become dizzy, and had fallen so unfortunately as to hurt his forehead against the sharp corner of a table. I affected to believe it, and said, 'You have done a very imprudent thing, and you must not do it again.'

Then he looked at his wife in a very singular way, and replied, 'Oh! you can be sure I shall not commit another imprudence. I want too much to get well. I have never wished it so much as now.'"

M. Folgat was on the point of replying; but the doctor closed his lips with his hand, and said,--

"Wait, I have not done yet."