"The experiments promised, to be all the more conclusive as aconitine is one, of those drugs which conceal themselves most obstinately from analysis.I proceed thus: After heating the suspected substances in twice their weight of alcohol, I drop the liquid gently into a vase with edges a little elevated, at the bottom of which is a piece of paper on which I have placed my tests.
If my paper retains its color, there is no poison; if it changes, the poison is there.In this case my paper was of a light yellow color, and if we were not mistaken, it ought either to become covered with brown spots, or completely brown.I explained this experiment beforehand to the judge of instruction and the experts who were assisting me.Ah, my friend, what a success I had! When the first drops of alcohol fell, the paper at once became a dark brown; your suspicions are thus proved to be quite correct.The substances which I submitted to the test were liberally saturated with aconitine.I never obtained more decisive results in my laboratory.I expect that my conclusions will be disputed in court;but I have means of verifying them, so that I shall surely confound all the chemists who oppose me.I think, my dear friend, that you will not be indifferent to the satisfaction I feel - "M.Plantat lost patience.
"This is unheard-of!" cried he."Incredible! Would you say, now, that this poison which he found in Sauvresy's body was stolen from his own laboratory? Why, that body is nothing more to him than 'suspected matter!' And he already imagines himself discussing the merits of his sensitive paper in court!""He has reason to look for antagonists in court.""And meanwhile he makes his experiments, and analyzes with the coolest blood in the world; he continues his abominable cooking, boiling and filtering, and preparing his arguments - !"M.Lecoq did not share in his friend's indignation; he was not sorry at the prospect of a bitter struggle in court, and he imagined a great scientific duel, like that between Orfila and Raspail, the provincial and Parisian chemists.
"If Tremorel has the face to deny his part in Sauvresy's murder,"said he, "we shall have a superb trial of it."This word "trial" put an end to M.Plantat's long hesitation.
"We mustn't have any trial," cried he.
The old man's violence, from one who was usually so calm and self-possessed, seemed to amaze M.Lecoq.
"Ah ha," thought he, "I'm going to know all." He added aloud:
"What, no trial?"
M.Plantat had turned whiter than a sheet; he was trembling, and his voice was hoarse, as if broken by sobs.
"I would give my fortune," resumed he to avoid a trial - every centime of it, though it doesn't amount to much.But how can we secure this wretch Tremorel from a conviction? What subterfuge shall we invent? You alone, my friend, can advise me in the frightful extremity to which you see me reduced, and aid me to accomplish what I wish.If there is any way in the world, you will find it and save me - ""But, my - "
"Pardon-hear me, and you will comprehend me.I am going to be frank with you, as I would be with myself; and you will see the reason of my hesitation, my silence, in short, of all my conduct since the discovery of the crime.""I am listening."
"It's a sad history, Lecoq.I had reached an age at which a man's career is, as they say, finished, when I suddenly lost my wife and my two sons, my whole joy, my whole hope in this world.I found myself alone in life, more lost than the shipwrecked man in the midst of the sea, without a plank to sustain me.I was a soulless body, when chance brought me to settle down at Orcival.There Isaw Laurence; she was just fifteen, and never lived there a creature who united in herself so much intelligence, grace, innocence, and beauty.Courtois became my friend, and soon Laurence was like a daughter to me.I doubtless loved her then, but I did not confess it to myself, for I did not read my heart clearly.She was so young, and I had gray hairs! I persuaded myself that my love for her was like that of a father, and it was as a father that she cherished me.Ah, I passed many a delicious hour listening to her gentle prattle and her innocent confidences; I was happy when I saw her skipping about in my garden, picking the roses I had reared for her, and laying waste my parterres; and I said to myself that existence is a precious gift from God.My dream then was to follow her through life.I fancied her wedded to some good man who made her happy, while I remained the friend of the wife, after having been the confidant of the maiden.I took good care of my fortune, which is considerable, because I thought of her children, and wished to hoard up treasures for them.Poor, poor Laurence!"M.Lecoq fidgeted in his chair, rubbed his face with his handkerchief, and seemed ill at ease.He was really much more touched than he wished to appear.
"One day," pursued the old man, "my friend Gourtois spoke to me of her marriage with Tremorel; then I measured the depth of my love.