MADAME VAGRET. Your husband, I imagine, is not sorry.

MADAME BUNERAT. Nor yours, I'm sure.

MADAME VAGRET. And the President of a.s.sizes?

BUNERAT. He will be a little late. He wants to get away early to-morrow morning, and he has a ma.s.s of doc.u.ments to sign. You must remember the Court has barely risen. When we saw that we should be sitting so late we sent for our evening clothes, and we changed while the jury was deliberating; then we put our robes on over them to p.r.o.nounce sentence.

MADAME VAGRET. And the sentence was?

BUNERAT. An acquittal.

MADAME VAGRET. Again! Oh, the juries are crazy!

VAGRET. My dear, you express yourself just a little freely.

MADAME BUNERAT. Now, my dear Madame Vagret, you mustn't worry yourself.

_She leads her up the stage._

BUNERAT [_to Vagret_] Yes, my dear colleague, an acquittal. That makes three this session.

MOUZON [_a man of forty, whiskered and foppish_] Three prisoners whom we have had to set at liberty because we couldn't hold them for other causes.

BUNERAT. A regular run on the black!

LA BOUZOLE [_a man of seventy_] My dear colleagues would prefer a run on the red.

BUNERAT. La Bouzole, you are a cynic! I do not understand how you can have the courage to joke on such a subject.

LA BOUZOLE. I shouldn't joke if your prisoners were condemned.

MOUZON. I'm not thinking of our prisoners--I'm thinking of ourselves. If you imagine we shall receive the congratulations of the Chancellery, you are mistaken.

BUNERAT. He doesn't care a straw if the Mauleon Court does earn a black mark in Paris.

LA BOUZOLE. You have said it, Bunerat; I don't care a straw! I have nothing more to look for. I shall be seventy years old next week, and I retire automatically. Nothing more to hope for; I have a right to judge matters according to my own conscience. I'm out of school! [_He gives a little skip_] Don't get your backs up--I've done--I see the Year Book over there; I'm going to look out the dates of the coming vacation for you. [_He takes a seat to the left_]

BUNERAT. Well, there it is. [_To Vagret_] The President of a.s.sizes is furious.

MOUZON. It won't do him any good either.

VAGRET. And my subst.i.tute?

BUNERAT. You may well say "your subst.i.tute"!

MOUZON. It's all his fault. He pleaded extenuating circ.u.mstances. He!

BUNERAT. Where does the idiot hail from?

VAGRET. He's far from being an idiot, I a.s.sure you. He was secretary to the Conference in Paris; he is a doctor of laws and full of talent.

BUNERAT. Talent!

VAGRET. I a.s.sure you he has a real talent for speaking.

BUNERAT. So we observed.

VAGRET. He's a very distinguished young fellow.

BUNERAT [_with emphasis_] Well! When a man has such talent as that he becomes an advocate; he doesn't enter the magistracy.

MADAME VAGRET [_to La Bouzole, who approaches her_] So really, Monsieur La Bouzole, it seems it's the fault of the new subst.i.tute.

MADAME BUNERAT. Tell us all about it.

LA BOUZOLE. It was like this. [_He turns towards the ladies and continues in a low tone. Bertha, who has entered the room, joins the group, of which Vagret also forms one_]

MOUZON [_to Bunerat_] All this won't hasten our poor Vagret's nomination.

BUNERAT [_smiling_] The fact is he hasn't a chance at the present moment, poor chap!

MOUZON. Is it true that they were really seriously thinking of him when there is a certain other magistrate in the same court?

BUNERAT [_with false modesty_] I don't think I--Of whom are you speaking?

MOUZON. Of yourself, my dear President.

BUNERAT. They have indeed mentioned my name at the Ministry.

MOUZON. When you preside at a.s.sizes the proceedings will be far more interesting than they are at present.

BUNERAT. Now how can you tell that, my dear Mouzon?

MOUZON. Because I have seen you preside over the Correctional Court.

[_He laughs_]

BUNERAT. Why do you laugh?

MOUZON. I just remembered that witty remark of yours the other day.

BUNERAT [_delighted_] I don't recall it.

MOUZON. It really was very witty! [_He laughs_]

BUNERAT. What was it? Did I say anything witty? I don't remember.

MOUZON. Anything? A dozen things--a score. You were in form that day!

What a figure he cut--the prisoner. You know, the fellow who was so badly dressed. c.o.c.k his name was.