“Since you believe in my innocence, others may believe in me too, and my
salvation is drawing near.”
The melancholy faces of the two advocates told him that he was rejoicing
too soon. His features expressed his grief; but he said with a firm
voice,--
“Well, I see that the struggle will be a hard one, and that the result
is still uncertain. Never mind. You may be sure I will not give way.”
In the meantime M. Folgat had spread out on the table all the papers
he had brought with him,--copies furnished by Mechinet, and notes taken
during his rapid journey.
“First of all, my dear client,” he said, “I must inform you of what has
been done.”
And when he had stated every thing, down to the minutest details of what
Goudar and he had done, he said,--
“Let us sum up. We are able to prove three things: 1. That the house in
Vine Street belongs to you, and that Sir Francis Burnett, who is known
there, and you are one; 2. That you were visited in this house by a
lady, who, from all the precautions she took, had powerful reasons to
remain unknown; 3. That the visits of this lady took place at certain
epochs every year, which coincided precisely with the journeys which the
Countess Claudieuse yearly made to Paris.”
The great advocate of Sauveterre expressed his assent.
“Yes,” he said, “all this is fully established.”
“For ourselves, we have another certainty,--that Suky Wood, the servant
of the false Sir Francis Burnett, has watched the mysterious lady; that
she has seen her, and consequently would know her again.”
“True, that appears from the deposition of the girl’s friend.”
“Consequently, if we discover Suky Wood, the Countess Claudieuse is
unmasked.”
“If we discover her,” said M. Magloire. “And here, unfortunately, we
enter into the region of suppositions.”
“Suppositions!” said M. Folgat. “Well, call them so; but they are based
upon positive facts, and supported by a hundred precedents. Why should
we not find this Suky Wood, whose birthplace and family we know, and who
has no reason for concealment? Goudar has found very different people;
and Goudar is on our side. And you may be sure he will not be asleep.
I have held out to him a certain hope which will make him do
miracles,--the hope of receiving as a reward, if he succeeds, the
house in Vine Street. The stakes are too magnificent: he must win the
game,--he who has won so many already. Who knows what he may not have
discovered since we left him? Has he not done wonders already?”
“It is marvellous!” cried Jacques, amazed at these results.
Older than M. Folgat and Jacques, the eminent advocate of Sauveterre was
less ready to feel such enthusiasm.
“Yes,” he said, “it is marvellous; and, if we had time, I would say
as you do, ‘We shall carry the day!’ But there is no time for Goudar’s
investigations: the sessions are on hand, and it seems to me it would be
very difficult to obtain a postponement.”
“Besides, I do not wish it to be postponed,” said Jacques.
“But”--
“On no account, Magloire, never! What? I should endure three months more
of this anguish which tortures me? I could not do it: my strength is
exhausted. This uncertainty has been too much for me. I could bear no
more suspense.”