“I congratulate you. It must be delightful to know the secret of all
things, only you may be mistaken. You are an excellent hand at such
investigations; but I am an older man than you in the profession. The
more I think in this case, the less I understand it. If you know every
thing so perfectly well, I wish you would tell me what could have been
the motive for the crime, for, after all, we do not run the risk of
losing our head without some very powerful and tangible purpose. Where
was Jacques’s interest? You will tell me he hated Count Claudieuse. But
is that an answer. Come, go for a moment to your own conscience. But
stop! No one likes to do that.”
M. Galpin was beginning to regret that he had ever come. He had hoped to
find M. Daubigeon quite penitent, and here he was worse than ever.
“The Court of Inquiry has felt no such scruples,” he said dryly.
“No; but the jury may feel some. They are, occasionally, men of sense.”
“The jury will condemn M. de Boiscoran without hesitation.”
“I would not swear to that.”
“You would if you knew who will plead.”
“Oh!”
“The prosecution will employ M. Gransiere!”
“Oh, oh!”
“You will not deny that he is a first-class man?”
The magistrate was evidently becoming angry; his ears reddened up; and
in the same proportion M. Daubigeon regained his calmness.
“God forbid that I should deny M. Gransiere’s eloquence. He is a
powerful speaker, and rarely misses his man. But then, you know, cases
are like books: they have their luck or ill luck. Jacques will be well
defended.”
“I am not afraid of M. Magloire.”
“But Mr. Folgat?”
“A young man with no weight. I should be far more afraid of M. Lachant.”
“Do you know the plan of the defence?”
This was evidently the place where the shoe pinched; but M. Galpin took
care not to let it be seen, and replied,--
“I do not. But that does not matter. M. de Boiscoran’s friends at first
thought of making capital out of Cocoleu; but they have given that up.
I am sure of that! The police-agent whom I have charged to keep his eyes
on the idiot tells me that Dr. Seignebos does not trouble himself about
the man any more.”
M. Daubigeon smiled sarcastically, and said, much more for the purpose
of teasing his visitor than because he believed it himself,--
“Take care! do not trust appearances. You have to do with very clever
people. I always told you Cocoleu is probably the mainspring of the
whole case. The very fact that M. Gransiere will speak ought to make you
tremble. If he should not succeed, he would, of course, blame you, and
never forgive you in all his life. Now, you know he may fail. ‘There is
many a slip between the cup and the lip.’
“And I am disposed to think with Villon,--
‘Nothing is so certain as uncertain things.’”
M. Galpin could tell very well that he should gain nothing by prolonging
the discussion, and so he said,--
“Happen what may, I shall always know that my conscience supports me.”
Then he made great haste to take leave, lest an answer should come from
M. Daubigeon. He went out; and as he descended the stairs, he said to
himself,--
“It is losing time to reason with that old fogy who sees in the events
of the day only so many opportunities for quotations.”
But he struggled in vain against his own feelings; he had lost his
self-confidence. M. Daubigeon had revealed to him a new danger which he
had not foreseen. And what a danger!--the resentment of one of the most
eminent men of the French bar, one of those bitter, bilious men who
never forgive. M. Galpin had, no doubt, thought of the possibility of
failure, that is to say, of an acquittal; but he had never considered
the consequences of such a check.
Who would have to pay for it? The prosecuting attorney first and
foremost, because, in France, the prosecuting attorney makes the
accusation a personal matter, and considers himself insulted and
humiliated, if he misses his man.
Now, what would happen in such a case?