“There I was, standing in the middle of the street, feeling like a fool.
I thought I had nothing left me but to go and use my legs: that was
safest for me. But that wretched, half-open gate attracted me. I said to
myself, ‘If you go in, and they catch you, they will think you have
come to steal, and you’ll have to pay for it.’ That was true; but the
temptation was too strong for me. My curiosity broke my heart, so to
say, and, ‘Come what may, I’ll risk it,’ I said. I push the huge gate
just wide enough to let me in, and here I am in a large garden. It was
pitch dark; but, quite at the bottom of the garden, three windows in the
lower story of the house were lighted up. I had ventured too far now
to go back. So I went on, creeping along stealthily, until I reached a
tree, against which I pressed closely, about the length of my arm from
one of the windows, which belonged to a beautiful parlor. I look--and I
see whom? M. de Boiscoran. As there were no curtains to the windows,
I could see as well as I can see you. His face looked terrible. I was
asking myself for whom he could be waiting there, when I saw him hiding
behind the open door of the room, like a man who is lying in wait for
somebody, with evil intentions. This troubled me very much; but the next
moment a lady came in. Instantly M. Jacques shuts the door behind her;
the lady turns round, sees him, and wants to run, uttering at the same
time a loud cry. That lady was the Countess Claudieuse!”
He looked as if he wished to pause to watch the effect of his
revelation. But Mechinet was so impatient, that he forgot the modest
character of his duty, and said hastily,--
“Go on; go on!”
“One of the windows was half open,” continued the vagrant, “and thus
I could hear almost as well as I saw. I crouched down on all-fours and
kept my head on a level with the ground, so as not to lose a word. Oh,
it was fearful! At the first word I understood it all: M. Jacques and
the Countess Claudieuse had been lovers.”
“This is madness!” cried M. Galpin.
“Well, I tell you I was amazed. The Countess Claudieuse--such a pious
lady! But I have ears; don’t you think I have? M. Jacques reminded her
of the night of the crime, how they had been together a few minutes
before the fire broke out, as they had agreed some days before to meet
near Valpinson at that very time. At this meeting they had burnt their
love-letters, and M. Jacques had blackened his fingers badly in burning
them.”
“Did you really hear that?” asked M. Daubigeon.
“As I hear you, sir.”
“Write it down, Mechinet,” said the commonwealth attorney with great
eagerness,--“write that down carefully.”
The clerk was sure to do it.
“What surprised me most,” continued Trumence, “was, that the countess
seemed to consider M. Jacques guilty, and he thought she was. Each
accused the other of the crime. She said, ‘You attempted the life of my
husband, because you were afraid of him!’ And he said, ‘You wanted to
kill him, so as to be free, and to prevent my marriage!’”