The great lawyer of Sauveterre had been far more astonished at the unexpected and extraordinary meeting than M. Folgat. As soon as the wandering minstrel had left them, he asked his young colleague,--"You know that individual?"
"That individual," replied M. Folgat, "is none other than the agent whose services I have engaged, and whom I mentioned to you.""Goudar?"
"Yes, Goudar."
"And did you not recognize him?"
The young advocate smiled.
"Not until he spoke," he replied. "The Goudar whom I know is tall, thin, beardless, and wears his hair cut like a brush. This street-musician is low, bearded, and has long, smooth hair falling down his back. How could I recognize my man in that vagabond costume, with a violin in his hand, and a provincial song set to music?"M. Magloire smiled too, as he said,--
"What are, after all, professional actors in comparison with these men! Here is one who pretends having reached Sauveterre only this morning, and who knows the country as well as Trumence himself. He has not been here twelve hours, and he speaks already of M. de Chandore's little garden-gate.""Oh! I can explain that circumstance now, although, at first, it surprised me very much. When I told Goudar the whole story, I no doubt mentioned the little gate in connection with Mechinet."Whilst they were chatting thus, they had reached the upper end of National Street. Here they stopped; and M. Magloire said,--"One word before we part. Are you quite resolved to see the Countess Claudieuse?""I have promised."
"What do you propose telling her?"
"I do not know. That depends upon how she receives me.""As far as I know her, she will, upon looking at the note, merely order you out.""Who knows! At all events, I shall not have to reproach myself for having shrunk from a step which in my heart I thought it my duty to take.""Whatever may happen, be prudent, and do not allow yourself to get angry. Remember that a scene with her would compel us to change our whole line of defence, and that that is the only one which promises any success.""Oh, do not fear!"
Thereupon, shaking hands once more, they parted, M. Magloire returning to his house, and M. Folgat going up the street. It struck half-past five, and the young advocate hurried on for fear of being too late. He found them waiting for him to go to dinner; but, as he entered the room, he forgot all his excuses in his painful surprise at the mournful and dejected appearance of the prisoner's friends and relatives.
"Have we any bad news?" he asked with a hesitating voice.
"The worst we had to fear," replied the Marquis de Boiscoran. "We had all foreseen it; and still, as you see, it has surprised us all, like a clap of thunder."The young lawyer beat his forehead, and cried,--"The court has ordered the trial!"
The marquis only bent his head, as if his voice, had failed him to answer the question.
"It is still a great secret," said Dionysia; "and we only know it, thanks to the indiscretion of our kind, our devoted Mechinet. Jacques will have to appear before the Assizes."She was interrupted by a servant, who entered to announce that dinner was on the table.
They all went into the dining-room; but the last event made it well-nigh impossible for them to eat. Dionysia alone, deriving from feverish excitement an amazing energy, aided M. Folgat in keeping up the conversation. From her the young advocate learned that Count Claudieuse was decidedly worse, and that he would have received, in the day, the last sacrament, but for the decided opposition of Dr.
Seignebos, who had declared that the slightest excitement might kill his patient.
"And if he dies," said M. de Chandore, "that is the finishing stroke.
Public opinion, already incensed against Jacques, will become implacable."However, the meal came to an end; and M. Folgat went up to Dionysia, saying,--"I must beg of you, madam, to trust me with the key to the little garden-gate."She looked at him quite astonished.
"I have to see a detective secretly, who has promised me his assistance.""Is he here?"
"He came this morning."
When Dionysia had handed him the key, M. Folgat hastened to reach the end of the garden; and, at the third stroke of nine o'clock, the minstrel of the New-Market Square, Goudar, pushed the little gate, and, his violin under his arm, slipped into the garden.
"A day lost!" he exclaimed, without thinking of saluting the young lawyer,--"a whole day; for I could do nothing till I had seen you."He seemed to be so angry, that M. Folgat tried to soothe him.
"Let me first of all compliment you on your disguise," he said. But Goudar did not seem to be open to praise.
"What would a detective be worth if he could not disguise himself! Agreat merit, forsooth! And I tell you, I hate it! But I could not think of coming to Sauveterre in my own person, a detective. Ugh!