Chapter II.27
At the same hour when the magistrate left the hospital, Dr. Seignebos and M. Folgat parted, after a frugal breakfast,--the one to visit his patients, the other to go to the prison. The young advocate was very much troubled. He hung his head as he went down the street; and the diplomatic citizens who compared his dejected appearance with the victorious air of M. Galpin came to the conclusion that Jacques de Boiscoran was irrevocably lost.
At that moment M. Folgat was almost of their opinion. He had to pass through one of those attacks of discouragement, to which the most energetic men succumb at times, when they are bent upon pursuing an uncertain end which they ardently desire.
The declarations made by little Martha and the governess had literally overwhelmed him. Just when he thought he had the end of the thread in his hand, the tangle had become worse than ever. And so it had been from the commencement. At every step he took, the problem had become more complicated than ever. At every effort he made, the darkness, instead of being dispelled, had become deeper. Not that he as yet doubted Jacques's innocence. No! The suspicion which for a moment had flashed through his mind had passed away instantly. He admitted, with Dr. Seignebos, the possibility that there was an accomplice, and that it was Cocoleu, in all probability, who had been charged with the execution of the crime. But how could that fact be made useful to the defence? He saw no way.
Goudar was an able man; and the manner in which he had introduced himself into the hospital and Cocoleu's company indicated a master. But however cunning he was, however experienced in all the tricks of his profession, how could he ever hope to make a man confess who intrenched himself behind the rampart of feigned imbecility? If he had only had an abundance of time before him! But the days were counted, and he would have to hurry his measures.
"I feel like giving it up," thought the young lawyer.
In the meantime he had reached the prison. He felt the necessity of concealing his anxiety. While Blangin went before him through the long passages, rattling his keys, he endeavored to give to his features an expression of hopeful confidence.
"At last you come!" cried Jacques.
He had evidently suffered terribly since the day before. A feverish restlessness had disordered his features, and reddened his eyes. He was shaking with nervous tremor. Still he waited till the jailer had shut the door; and then he asked hoarsely,--
"What did she say?"
M. Folgat gave him a minute account of his mission, quoting the words of the countess almost literally.
"That is just like her!" exclaimed the prisoner. "I think I can hear her! What a woman! To defy me in this way!"
And in his anger he wrung his hands till they nearly bled.
"You see," said the young advocate, "there is no use in trying to get outside of our circle of defence. Any new effort would be useless."
"No!" replied Jacques. "No, I shall not stop there!"
And after a few moments' reflection,--if he can be said to have been able to reflect,--he said,--
"I hope you will pardon me, my dear sir, for having exposed you to such insults. I ought to have foreseen it, or, rather, I did foresee it. I knew that was not the way to begin the battle. But I was a coward, I was afraid, I drew back, fool that I was! As if I had not known that we shall at any rate have to come to the last extremity! Well, I am ready now, and I shall do it!"
"What do you mean to do?"
"I shall go and see the Countess Claudieuse. I shall tell her"-- "Oh!"
"You do not think she will deny it to my face? When I once have her under my eye, I shall make her confess the crime of which I am accused."
M. Folgat had promised Dr. Seignebos not to mention what Martha and her governess had said; but he felt no longer bound to conceal it.
"And if the countess should not be guilty?" he asked. "Who, then, could be guilty?"
"If she had an accomplice?"
"Well, she will tell me who it is. I will insist upon it, I will make her tell. I will not be disgraced. I am innocent, I will not go to the galleys!"
To try and make Jacques listen to reason would have been madness just now.
"Have a care," said the young lawyer. "Our defence is difficult enough already; do not make it still more so."
"I shall be careful."
"A scene might ruin us irrevocably." "Be not afraid!"
M. Folgat said nothing more. He thought he could guess by what means Jacques would try to get out of prison. But he did not ask him about the details, because his position as his counsel made it his duty not to know, or, at least, to seem not to know, certain things.
'Now, my dear sir," said the prisoner, "you will render me a service, will you not?" "What is it?"
"I want to know as accurately as possible how the house in which the countess lives is arranged."
Without saying a word, M. Folgat took out a sheet of paper, and drew on it a plan of the house, as far as he knew,--of the garden, the entrance-hall, and the sitting-room.
"And the count's room," asked Jacques, "where is that?" "In the upper story."
"You are sure he cannot get up?" "Dr. Seignebos told me so."
The prisoner seemed to be delighted.
"Then all is right," he said, "and I have only to ask you, my dear counsel, to tell Miss Dionysia that I must see her to-day, as soon as possible. I wish her to come accompanied by one of her aunts only. And, I beseech you, make haste."
M. Folgat did hasten; so that, twenty minutes later, he was at the young lady's house. She was in her chamber. He sent word to her that he wished to see her; and, as soon as she heard that Jacques wanted her, she said simply,--
"I am ready to go."
And, calling one of the Misses Lavarande, she told her,--
"Come, Aunt Elizabeth, be quick. Take your hat and your shawl. I am going out, and you are going with me."
The prisoner counted so fully upon the promptness of his betrothed, that he had already gone down into the parlor when she arrived at the prison, quite out of breath from having walked so fast. He took her hands, and, pressing them to his lips, he said,--
"Oh, my darling! how shall I ever thank you for your sublime fidelity in my misfortune? If I escape, my whole life will not suffice to prove my gratitude."
But he tried to master his emotion, and turning to Aunt Elizabeth, he said,--
"Will you pardon me if I beg you to render me once more the service you have done me before? It is all important that no one should hear what I am going to say to Dionysia. I know I am watched."
Accustomed to passive obedience, the good lady left the room without daring to make the slightest remark, and went to keep watch in the passage. Dionysia was very much surprised; but Jacques did not give her time to utter a word. He said at once,--
"You told me in this very place, that, if I wished to escape, Blangin would furnish me the means, did you not?"
The young girl drew back, and stammered with an air of utter bewilderment,-- "You do not want to flee?"
"Never! Under no circumstances! But you ought to remember, that, while resisting all your arguments, I told you, that perhaps, some day or other, I might require a few hours of liberty."
"I remember."
"I begged you to sound the jailer on that point."
"I did so. For money he will always be ready to do your bidding." Jacques seemed to breathe more freely.
"Well, then," he said again, "the time has come. To-morrow I shall have to be away