“Do not trouble yourself about that: a postponement is out of the
question. On what pretext could we ask for it? The only way would be to
introduce an entirely new element in the case. We should have to summon
the Countess Claudieuse.”
The greatest surprise appeared on Jacques’s face.
“Will we not summon her anyhow?” he asked.
“That depends.”
“I do not understand you.”
“It is very simple, however. If Goudar should succeed, before the trial,
in collecting sufficient evidence against her, I should summon her
certainly; and then the case would naturally change entirely; the whole
proceeding would begin anew; and you would probably appear only as a
witness. If, on the contrary, we obtain, before the trial begins, no
other proof but what we have now, I shall not mention her name even; for
that would, in my opinion, and in M. Magloire’s opinion, ruin your cause
irrevocably.”
“Yes,” said the great advocate, “that is my opinion.”
Jacques’s amazement was boundless.
“Still,” he said, “in self-defence, I must, if I am brought up in court,
speak of my relations to the Countess Claudieuse.”
“No.”
“But that is my only explanation.”
“If it were credited.”
“And you think you can defend me, you think you can save me, without
telling the truth?”