“Did anybody ever hear such a thing?”
“However, they explained; and at last they found out that they were both
of them innocent. Then M. Jacques entreated the countess to save him;
and she replied that she would certainly not save him at the expense of
her reputation, and so enable him, as soon as he was free once more, to
marry Miss Chandore. Then he said to her, ‘Well, then I must tell all;’
and she, ‘You will not be believed. I shall deny it all, and you have
no proof!’ In his despair, he reproached her bitterly, and said she had
never loved him at all. Then she swore she loved him more than ever; and
that, as he was free now, she was ready to abandon every thing, and to
escape with him to some foreign country. And she conjured him to flee,
in a voice which moved my heart, with loving words such as I have never
heard before in my life, and with looks which seemed to be burning fire.
What a woman! I did not think he could possibly resist. And yet he did
resist; and, perfectly beside himself with anger, he cried, ‘Rather the
galleys!’ Then she laughed, mocking him, and saying, ‘Very well, you
shall go to the galleys!’”
Although Trumence entered into many details, it was quite evident that
he kept back many things.
Still M. Daubigeon did not dare question him, for fear of breaking the
thread of his account.
“But that was nothing at all,” said the vagrant. “While M. Jacques and
the countess were quarrelling in this way, I saw the door of the parlor
suddenly open as if by itself, and a phantom appear in it, dressed in a
funeral pall. It was Count Claudieuse himself. His face looked terrible;
and he had a revolver in his hand. He was leaning against the side of
the door; and he listened while his wife and M. Jacques were talking of
their former love-affairs. At certain words, he would raise his pistol
as if to fire; then he would lower it again, and go on listening. It was
so awful, I had not a dry thread on my body. It was very hard not to cry
out to M. Jacques and the countess, ‘You poor people, don’t you see that
the count is there?’ But they saw nothing; for they were both beside
themselves with rage and despair: and at last M. Jacques actually raised
his hand to strike the countess. ‘Do not strike that woman!’ suddenly
said the count. They turn round; they see him, and utter a fearful cry.
The countess fell on a chair as if she were dead. I was thunderstruck.
I never in my life saw a man behave so beautifully as M. Jacques did at
that moment. Instead of trying to escape, he opened his coat, and baring
his breast, he said to the husband, ‘Fire! You are in your right!’ The
count, however, laughed contemptuously, and said, ‘The court will avenge
me!’--‘You know very well that I am innocent.’--‘All the better.’--‘It
would be infamous to let me be condemned.’--‘I shall do more than that.
To make your condemnation sure, I shall say that I recognized you.’
The count was going to step forward, as he said this; but he was dying.
Great God, what a man! He fell forward, lying at full-length on the
floor. Then I got frightened, and ran away.”
By a very great effort only could the commonwealth attorney control
his intense excitement. His voice, however, betrayed him as he asked
Trumence, after a solemn pause,--
“Why did you not come and tell us all that at once?”