“Have you heard the news?”
“No: what is it?”
“Dionysia de Chandore has been to see M. de Boiscoran in prison.”
“Is it possible?”
“Yes, indeed! Twenty people have seen her come back from there, leaning
on the arm of the older Miss Lavarande. She went in at ten minutes past
ten, and she did not come out till a quarter-past three.”
“Is the young woman mad?”
“And the aunt--what do you think of the aunt?”
“She must be as mad as the niece.”
“And M. de Chandore?”
“He must have lost his senses to allow such a scandal. But you know very
well, grandfather and aunts never had any will but Dionysia’s.”
“A nice training!”
“And nice fruits of such an education! After such a scandal, no man will
be bold enough to marry her.”
Such were the comments on Dionysia’s visit to Jacques, when the news
became known. It flew at once all over town. The ladies “in society”
could not recover from it; for people are exceedingly virtuous at
Sauveterre, and hence they claim the right of being exceedingly strict
in their judgment. There is no trifling permitted on the score of
propriety.
The person who defies public opinion is lost. Now, public opinion was
decidedly against Jacques de Boiscoran. He was down, and everybody was
ready to kick him.
“Will he get out of it?”
This problem, which was day by day discussed at the “Literary Club,” had
called forth torrents of eloquence, terrible discussions, and even one
or two serious quarrels, one of which had ended in a duel. But nobody
asked any longer,--
“Is he innocent?”
Dr. Seignebos’s eloquence, the influence of M. Seneschal, and the
cunning plots of Mechinet, had all failed.
“Ah, what an interesting trial it will be!” said many people, who were
all eagerness to know who would be the presiding judge, in order to
ask him for tickets of admission. Day by day the interest in the trial
became deeper; and all who were in any way connected with it were
watched with great curiosity. Everybody wanted to know what they were
doing, what they thought, and what they had said.
They saw in the absence of the Marquis de Boiscoran an additional proof
of Jacques’s guilt. The continued presence of M. Folgat also created no
small wonder. His extreme reserve, which they ascribed to his excessive
and ill-placed pride, had made him generally disliked. And now they
said,--
“He must have hardly any thing to do in Paris, that he can spend so many
months in Sauveterre.”
The editor of “The Sauveterre Independent” naturally found the affair
a veritable gold-mine for his paper. He forgot his old quarrel with the
editor of “The Impartial Journal,” whom he accused of Bonapartism, and
who retaliated by calling him a Communist. Each day brought, in addition
to the usual mention under the “local” head, some article on the
“Boiscoran Case.” He wrote,--
“The health of Count C., instead of improving, is declining visibly. He
used to get up occasionally when he first came to Sauveterre; and now he
rarely leaves his bed. The wound in the shoulder, which at first seemed
to be the least dangerous, has suddenly become much inflamed, owing
to the tropical heat of the last days. At one time gangrene was
apprehended, and it was feared that amputation would become necessary.
Yesterday Dr. S. seemed to be much disturbed.
“And, as misfortunes never come singly, the youngest daughter of Count
C. is very ill. She had the measles at the time of the fire; and the
fright, the cold, and the removal, have brought on a relapse, which may
be dangerous.
“Amid all these cruel trials, the Countess C. is admirable in her
devotion, her courage, and her resignation. Whenever she leaves the
bedside of her dear patients to pray at church for them, she is received
with the most touching sympathy and the most sincere admiration by the
whole population.”
“Ah, that wretch Boiscoran!” cried the good people of Sauveterre when
they read such an article.