“What is the matter with you, my good Anthony?”
Instead of replying, Anthony drew the baron and his companion inside;
and, when he had fastened the door again, he crossed his arms, and
said,--
“The matter is--well, I am afraid.”
The old gentleman and the lawyer looked at each other. They evidently
both thought the poor man had lost his mind. Anthony saw it, and said
quickly,--
“No, I am not mad, although, certainly, there are things passing here
which could make one doubtful of one’s own senses. If I am afraid, it is
for good reasons.”
“You do not doubt your master?” asked M. Folgat.
The servant cast such fierce, threatening glances at the lawyer, that M.
de Chandore hastened to interfere.
“My dear Anthony,” he said, “this gentleman is a friend of mine, a
lawyer, who has come down from Paris with the marchioness to defend
Jacques. You need not mistrust him, nay, more than that, you must tell
him all you know, even if”--