M. Gransiere, no doubt, would hold him responsible. He would say,--

“I had to draw my arguments from your part of the work. I did not obtain

a condemnation, because your work was imperfect. A man like myself ought

not to be exposed to such an humiliation, and, least of all, in a case

which is sure to create an immense sensation. You do not understand your

business.”

Such words were a public disgrace. Instead of the hoped-for promotion,

they would bring him an order to go into exile, to Corsica, or to

Algiers.

M. Galpin shuddered at the idea. He saw himself buried under the ruins

of his castles in Spain. And, unluckily, he went once more over all

the papers of the investigation, analyzing the evidence he had, like a

soldier, who, on the eve of a battle, furbishes up his arms. However,

he only found one objection, the same which M. Daubigeon had made,--what

interest could Jacques have had in committing so great a crime?

“There,” he said, “is evidently the weak part of the armor; and I would

do well to point it out to M. Gransiere. Jacques’s counsel are capable

of making that the turning-point of their plea.”

And, in spite of all he had said to M. Daubigeon, he was very much

afraid of the counsel for the defence. He knew perfectly well

the prestige which M. Magloire derived from his integrity and

disinterestedness. It was no secret to him, that a cause which M.

Magloire espoused was at once considered a good cause. They said of

him,--

“He may be mistaken; but whatever he says he believes.” He could not but

have a powerful influence, therefore, not on judges who came into court

with well-established opinions, but with jurymen who are under the

influence of the moment, and may be carried off by the eloquence of a

speech. It is true, M. Magloire did not possess that burning eloquence

which thrills a crowd, but M. Folgat had it, and in an uncommon degree.

M. Galpin had made inquiries; and one of his Paris friends had written

to him,--

“Mistrust Folgat. He is a far more dangerous logician than Lachant, and

possesses the same skill in troubling the consciences of jurymen,

in moving them, drawing tears from them, and forcing them into an

acquittal. Mind, especially, any incidents that may happen during the

trial; for he has always some kind of surprise in reserve.”

“These are my adversaries,” thought M. Galpin. “What surprise, I wonder,

is there in store for me? Have they really given up all idea of using

Cocoleu?”

He had no reason for mistrusting his agent; and yet his apprehensions

became so serious, that he went out of his way to look in at the

hospital. The lady superior received him, as a matter of course, with

all the signs of profound respect; and, when he inquired about Cocoleu,

she added,--

“Would you like to see him?”

“I confess I should be very glad to do so.”

“Come with me, then.”

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