“Oh! Cocoleu is not so innocent as he looks.”
“He can say very well what he wants to say, the scamp!” added another.
“At all events, I am indebted to him for the life of my children,” said
the count gently. “He thought of them when I was unconscious, and when
no one else remembered them. Come, Cocoleu, come nearer, my friend,
don’t be afraid: there is no one here to hurt you.”
It was very well the count used such kind words; for Cocoleu was
thoroughly terrified by the brutal treatment he had received, and was
trembling in all his limbs.
“I am--not--a--afraid,” he stammered out.
“Once more I protest,” said the physician.
He had found out that he stood not alone in his opinion. Count
Claudieuse came to his assistance, saying,--
“I really think it might be dangerous to question Cocoleu.”
But the magistrate was master of the situation, and conscious of all the
powers conferred upon him by the laws of France in such cases.
“I must beg, gentlemen,” he said, in a tone which did not allow of any
reply,--“I must beg to be permitted to act in my own way.”