If he had been less distressed, Jacques de Boiscoran would have seen how
wisely he had acted in choosing for his defender the great advocate of
Sauveterre. A stranger, M. Folgat, for instance, would have heard him
silently, and would have seen in the revelation nothing but the fact
without giving it a personal value. In M. Magloire, on the contrary, he
saw what the whole country would feel. And M. Magloire, when he heard
him declare that the Countess Claudieuse had been his mistress, looked
indignant, and exclaimed,--
“That is impossible.”
At least Jacques was not surprised. He had been the first to say
that they would refuse to believe him when he should speak; and this
conviction had largely influenced him in keeping silence so long.
“It is impossible, I know,” he said; “and still it is so.”
“Give me proofs!” said M. Magloire.
“I have no proofs.”
The melancholy and sympathizing expression of the great lawyer changed
instantly. He sternly glanced at the prisoner, and his eye spoke of
amazement and indignation.
“There are things,” he said, “which it is rash to affirm when one is not
able to support them with proof. Consider”--
“My situation forces me to tell all.”
“Why, then, did you wait so long?”
“I hoped I should be spared such a fearful extremity.”
“By whom?”
“By the countess.”