“You have not considered what an effect this would have.”
“Oh!”
“What would the public think if they heard all of a sudden that you
had withdrawn? ‘This affair of M. de Boiscoran must be a very bad one
indeed,’ they would say, ‘that M. Magloire should refuse to plead in
it.’ And that would be an additional burden laid upon the unfortunate
man.”
The doctor gave his friend no time to reply.
“Magloire is not at liberty to withdraw,” he said, “but he has the right
to associate a brother-lawyer with himself. He must remain the
advocate and counsel of M. de Boiscoran; but M. Folgat can lend him the
assistance of his advice, the support of his youth and his activity, and
even of his eloquence.”
A passing blush colored the cheeks of the young lawyer.
“I am entirely at M. Magloire’s service,” he said.
The famous advocate of Sauveterre considered a while. After a few
moments he turned to his young colleague, and asked him,--
“Have you any plan? Any idea? What would you do?”
To the astonishment of all, M. Folgat now revealed his true character
to some extent. He looked taller, his face brightened up, his eyes shone
brightly, and he said in a full, sonorous voice,--a voice which by its
metallic ring made all hearts vibrate,--
“First of all, I should go and see M. de Boiscoran. He alone should
determine my final decision. But my plan is formed now. I, gentlemen,
I have faith, as I told you before. The man whom Miss Dionysia loves
cannot be a criminal. What would I do? I would prove the truth of M.
de Boiscoran’s statement. Can that be done? I hope so. He tells us
that there are no proofs or witnesses of his intimacy with the
Countess Claudieuse. I am sure he is mistaken. She has shown, he says,
extraordinary care and prudence. That may be. But mistrust challenges
suspicion; and, when you take the greatest precautions, you are most
likely to be watched. You want to hide, and you are discovered. You see
nobody; but they see you.
“If I were charged with the defence, I should commence to-morrow a
counter-investigation. We have money, the Marquis de Boiscoran has
influential connections; and we should have help everywhere. Before
forty-eight hours are gone, I should have experienced agents at work.
I know Vine Street in Passy: it is a lonely street; but it has eyes,
as all streets have. Why should not some of these eyes have noticed the
mysterious visits of the countess? My agents would inquire from house
to house. Nor would it be necessary to mention names. They would not
be charged with a search after the Countess Claudieuse, but after an
unknown lady, dressed so and so; and, if they should discover any one
who had seen her, and who could identify her, that man would be our
first witness.
“In the meantime, I should go in search of this friend of M. de
Boiscoran’s, this Englishman, whose name he assumed; and the London
police would aid me in my efforts. If that Englishman is dead, we would
hear of it, and it would be a misfortune. If he is only at the other end
of the world, the transatlantic cable enables us to question him, and to
be answered in a week.
“I should, at the same time, have sent detectives after that English
maid-servant who attended to the house in Vine Street. M. de Boiscoran
declares that she has never even caught a glimpse of the countess. I do
not believe it. It is out of question that a servant should not wish for
the means, and find them, of seeing the face of the woman who comes to
see her master.
“And that is not all. There were other people who came to the house in
Vine Street. I should examine them one by one,--the gardener and his
help, the water-carrier, the upholsterer, the errand-boys of all the
merchants. Who can say whether one of them is not in possession of this
truth which we are seeking?
“Finally, when a woman has spent so many days in a house, it is almost
impossible that she should not have left some traces of her passage
behind her. Since then, you will say, there has been the war, and then
the commune. Nevertheless, I should examine the ruins, every tree in the
garden, every pane in the windows: I should compel the very mirrors that
have escaped destruction to give me back the image which they have so
often reflected.”
“Ah, I call that speaking!” cried the doctor, full of enthusiasm.
The others trembled with excitement. They felt that the struggle was
commencing. But, unmindful of the impression he had produced, M. Folgat
went on,--
“Here in Sauveterre, the task would be more difficult; but, in case of
success, the result, also, would be more decided. I should bring down
from Paris one of those keen, subtle detectives who have made an art of
their profession, and I should know how to stimulate his vanity. He, of
course, would have to know every thing, even the names; but there would
be no danger in that. His desire to succeed, the splendor of the reward,
even his professional habits, would be our security. He would come down
secretly, concealed under whatever disguise would appear to him most
useful for his purpose; and he would begin once more, for the benefit of
the defence, the investigation carried on by M. Galpin for the benefit
of the prosecution. Would he find out any thing? We can but hope so. I
know detectives, who, by the aid of smaller material, have unravelled
far deeper mysteries.”
Grandpapa Chandore, excellent M. Seneschal, Dr. Seignebos, and even M.
Magloire, were literally drinking in the words of the Paris lawyer.
“Is that all, gentlemen?” he continued. “By no means! Thanks to
his great experience, Dr. Seignebos had, on the very first day,
instinctively guessed who was the most important personage of this
mysterious drama.”
“Cocoleu!”
“Exactly, Cocoleu. Whether he be actor, confident, or eye-witness,
Cocoleu has evidently the key to this mystery. This key we must make
every effort to obtain from him. Medical experts have just declared him
idiotic; nevertheless, we protest. We claim that the imbecility of this
wretch is partly assumed. We maintain that his obstinate silence is
a vile imposture. What! he should have intelligence enough to testify
against us, and yet not have left enough of it now to explain, or even
to repeat his evidence? That is inadmissible. We maintain that he keeps
silent now just as he spoke that night,--by order. If his silence was
less profitable for the prosecution, they would soon find means to break
it. We demand that such means should be employed. We demand that the
person who has before been able to loosen his tongue should be sent
for, and ordered to try the experiment over again. We call for a
new examination by experts: we cannot judge all of a sudden, and
in forty-eight hours, what is the true mental condition of a man,
especially when that man is suspected of being an impostor. And we
require, above all, that these new experts should be qualified by
knowledge and experience.”
Dr. Seignebos was quivering with excitement. He heard all his own ideas
repeated in a concise, energetic manner.
“Yes,” he cried, “that is the way to do it! Let me have full power, and
in less than a fortnight Cocoleu is unmasked.”
Less expansive, the eminent advocate of Sauveterre simply shook hands
with M. Folgat, and said,--
“You see, M. de Boiscoran’s case ought to be put in your hands.”
The young lawyer made no effort to protest. When he began to speak, his
determination was already formed.
“Whatever can humanly be done,” he replied, “I will do. If I accept the
task, I shall devote myself body and soul to it. But I insist upon it,
it is understood, and must be publicly announced, that M. Magloire does
not withdraw from the case, and that I act only as his junior.”
“Agreed,” said the old advocate.
“Well. When shall we go and see M. de Boiscoran?”
“To-morrow morning.”
“I can, of course, take no steps till I have seen him.”
“Yes, but you cannot be admitted, except by a special permission from M.
Galpin; and I doubt if we can procure that to-day.”
“That is provoking.”
“No, since we have our work all cut out for to-day. We have to go over
all the papers of the proceedings, which the magistrate has placed in my
hands.”