THE ADVOCATE UNDERTAKES A STRANGE TASK.
It was on the evening of this day, the third since the arrival of the
Advocate in Geneva, that he said to his wife over the dinner-table:
"I shall in all likelihood be up the whole of to-night in my study. Do
not let me be disturbed."
"Who should disturb you?" asked Adelaide languidly. "There are only
you and I in the villa; of course I would not venture to intrude upon
you without permission."
"You misunderstand me, Adelaide; it is because we are in a strange
house that I thought it best to tell you."
"As if there were anything unusual in your shutting yourself up all
night in your study! Our notions of the way to lead an agreeable life
are so different! Take your own course, Edward; you are older and
wiser than I; but you must not wonder that I think it strange. You
come to the country for rest, and you are as hard at work as ever."
"I cannot live without work; aimless days would send me to my grave.
If you are lonely, Adelaide----"
"Oh, no, I am not," she cried vivaciously, "at least, not yet. There
is so much in the neighbourhood that is interesting. Dionetta and I
have been out all day seeing the sights. On the road to Master
Lamont's house there is the loveliest rustic bridge. And the wild
flowers are the most beautiful I have ever seen. We met a priest,
Father Capel, a gentle-looking man, with the kindest face! He said he
intended to call upon you, and hoped to be permitted. I said, of
course, you would be charmed. I had a good mind to visit Master
Lamont, but his house was too far up the hills. Fool Fritz joined us;
he is very amusing, with his efforts to be wise. I was delighted
everywhere with the people. I went into some of their cottages, and
the women were very respectful; and the children--upon my word,
Edward, they stare at me as if I were a picture."
The Advocate looked up at this, and regarded his wife with fond
admiration. In his private life two influences were dominant--love for
his wife, and friendship for Christian Almer. He had love for no other
woman, and friendship for no other man, and his trust in both was a
perfect trust.
"I do not wonder that the children stare at you," he said; "you must
be a new and pleasant experience to them."
"I believe they take me for a saint," she said, laughing gaily; "and I
need not tell _you_ that I am very far from being one."
"You are, as we all are, human; and very beautiful, Adelaide."
She gazed at him in surprise.
"It is not often you pay me compliments."
"Do you need them from me? To be sure of my affection--is not that
sufficient?"
"But I am fond of compliments."
"I must commence a new study, then," he said gravely; it was difficult
for him to indulge in light themes for many minutes together. "So you
are making yourself acquainted with the neighbours. I hope you will
not soon tire of them."
"When I do I must seek out some other amusement. You have also
discovered something since you came here in which you appear to be
wonderfully interested."
"Yes; a criminal case----"
"A criminal case!" she echoed pettishly.
"In which there is a great mystery. I do not trouble you with these
law matters; long ago you expressed weariness of such themes."
Her humour changed again.
"A mystery!" she exclaimed with child-like vivacity, "in a place where
news is so scarce! It must be delightful. What is it about? There is a
woman in it, of course. There always is."
"Yes; a young woman, whose body was found in the Rhone."
"Murdered?"
"Murdered, as it at present seems."
"The wretch! Have they caught him? For of course it is a man who
committed the dreadful deed."
"One is in prison, charged with the crime. I visited him to-day."
"Surely you are not going to defend him?"
"It is probable. I shall decide to-night."
"But why, Edward, why? If the man is guilty, should he not be
punished?"
"Undoubtedly he should. And if he is innocent, he should not be made
to suffer. He is poor and friendless; it will be a relief for me to
take up the case, should I believe him to be unjustly accused."
"Is he young--handsome--and was it done through jealousy?"
"I have told you the case is shrouded in mystery. As for the man
charged with the crime, he is very common and repulsive-looking."
"And you intend to defend such a creature?"
"Most likely."
She shrugged her shoulders with a slight gesture of contempt. She had
no understanding of his motives, no sympathy in his labours, no pride
in his victories.
When he retired to his study he did not immediately proceed to the
investigation of the case of Gautran, as it was set forth in the
numerous papers which lay on the table. These papers, in accordance
with the given promise, had been sent to him by Pierre Lamont, and it
was his intention to employ the hours of the night in a careful study
of the details of the affair, and of the conjectures and opinions of
editors and correspondents.
But he held his purpose back for a while, and for nearly half-an-hour
paced the floor slowly in deep thought. Suddenly he went out, and
sought his wife's private room.
"It did not occur to me before," he said, "to tell you that a friend
of Christian Almer's--Mr. Hartrich, the banker--in a conversation I
had with him, expressed his belief that Almer was suffering."
"Ill!" she cried in an agitated tone.
"In mind, not in body. You have received letters from him lately, I
believe?"
"Yes, three or four--the last a fortnight ago."
"Does he say he is unwell?"
"No; but now I think of it, he does not write in his usual good
spirits."
"You have his address?"
"Yes; he is in Switzerland, you know."
"So Mr. Hartrich informed me--somewhere in the mountains, endeavouring
to extract peace of mind from silence and solitude. That is well
enough for a few days, and intellectual men are always grateful for
such a change; but, if it is prolonged, there is danger of its
bringing a mental disease of a serious and enduring nature upon a man
brooding upon unhealthy fancies. I value Almer too highly to lose
sight of him, or to allow him to drift. He has no family ties, and is
in a certain sense a lonely man. Why should he not come and remain
with us during our stay in the village? I had an idea that he himself
would have proposed doing so."
"He might have considered it indelicate," said Adelaide with a bright
colour in her face, "the house being his. As if he had a right to be
here."
"It is by no means likely," said the Advocate, shaking his head, "that
Almer would ever be swayed by other than generous and large-minded
considerations. Write to him to-night, and ask him to leave his
solitude, and make his home with us. He will be company for you, and
your bright and cheerful ways will do him good. The prospect of his
visit has already excited you, I see. I am afraid," he said, with a
regretful pathos in his voice, "that my society affords you but poor
enjoyment; yet I never thought otherwise, when you honoured me by
accepting my proposal of marriage, than that you loved me."
"I hope you do not think otherwise now," she said in a low tone.
"Why, no," he said with a sigh of relief; "what reason have I to think
otherwise? We had time to study each other's characters, and I did not
present myself in a false light. But we are forgetting Almer. Can you
divine any cause for unusual melancholy in him?"
She seemed to consider, and answered:
"No, she could not imagine why he should be melancholy."
"Mr. Hartrich," continued the Advocate, "suggested that he might have
experienced a disappointment in love, but I could not entertain the
suggestion. Almer and I have for years exchanged confidences in which
much of men's inner natures is revealed, and had he met with such a
disappointment, he would have confided in me. I may be mistaken,
however; your opinion would be valuable here; in these delicate
matters, women are keen observers."
"Mr. Hartrich's suggestion is absurd; I am convinced Mr. Almer has not
met with a disappointment in love. He is so bright and attractive----"
"That any woman," said the Advocate, taking up the thread, for
Adelaide seemed somewhat at a loss for words, "might be proud to win
him. That is your thought, Adelaide."
"Yes."
"I agree with you. I have never in my life known a man more likely to
inspire love in a woman's heart than Christian Almer, and I have
sometimes wondered that he had not met with one to whom he was drawn;
it would be a powerful influence over him for good. Of an impure
passion I believe him incapable. Write to him to-night, and urge him
to come to us."
"If you wrote to him, also, it would be as well."
"I will do so; you can enclose my letter in yours. How does your new
maid suit you?"
"Admirably. She is perfection."
"Which does not exist."
"If I could induce her grandmother to part with her, I should like to
keep her with me always."
"Do not tempt her, Adelaide. For a simple maid a country life is the
happiest and best--indeed, for any maid, or any man, young or old."
"How seldom practice and precept agree! Why do you not adopt a country
life?"
"Too late. A man must follow his star. I should die of inaction in the
country; and you--I smile when I think what would become of you were I
to condemn you to it."
"You are not always right. I adore the country!"
"For an hour and a day. Adelaide, you could not exist out of society."
Until the Alpine peaks were tipped with the fire of the rising sun,
the Advocate remained in his study, investigating and considering the
case of Gautran. Only once did he leave it to give his wife the letter
he wrote to Christian Almer. Newspaper after newspaper was read and
laid aside, until the long labour came to its end. Then the Advocate
rose, with no trace of fatigue on his countenance, and according to
his wont, walked slowly up and down in deep thought. His eyes rested
occasionally upon the grotesque and hideous figures carved on the old
sideboard, which, had they been sentient and endowed with the power of
speech, might have warned him that he had already, within the past few
hours, woven one tragic link in his life, and have held him back from
weaving another. But he saw no warning in their fantastic faces, and
before he retired to rest he had formed his resolve. On the following
day all Geneva was startled by the news that the celebrated Advocate,
who had travelled thither for rest from years of arduous toil, had
undertaken the defence of a wretch upon whose soul, in the opinion of
nearly every thinking man and woman, the guilt of blood lay heavily.
The trial of Gautran was instantly invested with an importance which
elevated it into an absorbing theme with every class of society.