He showed neither the anger nor the disappointment of an advocate who
has just had a cause which he knew to be just.
“That day has not come yet,” he replied. “Remember your promise. As long
as there remains a ray of hope, we shall fight. Now we have much more
than mere hope at this moment. In less than a month, in a week, perhaps
to-morrow, we shall have our revenge.”
The unfortunate man shook his head.
“I shall nevertheless have undergone the disgrace of a condemnation,” he
murmured.
The taking the ribbon of the Legion of Honor from his buttonhole, he
handed it to M. Folgat, saying--
“Keep this in memory of me, and if I never regain the right to wear
it”--
In the meantime, however, the gendarmes, whose duty it was to guard the
prisoner, had risen; and the sergeant said to Jacques,--
“We must go, sir. Come, come! You need not despair. You need not lose
courage. All is not over yet. There is still the appeal for you, and
then the petition for pardon, not to speak of what may happen, and
cannot be foreseen.”
M. Folgat was allowed to accompany the prisoner, and was getting ready
to do so; but the latter said, with a pained voice,--
“No, my friend, please leave me alone. Others have more need of your
presence than I have. Dionysia, my poor father, my mother. Go to them.
Tell them that the horror of my condemnation lies in the thought of
them. May they forgive me for the affliction which I cause them, and for
the disgrace of having me for their son, for her betrothed!”