“In the course of a long professional career, I have seen and heard nothing that has touched me more deeply than that I have just seen and heard. But it is not extraordinary that virtue should wear its noblest aspect when it is practised by men of the highest class.
“Having heard me express myself in this way, I hope, Monsieur le Marquis, that you feel certain of my silence, and that you will not for a moment be uneasy as to the decision pronounced in the case—if it comes before the Court.”
“There, now! Well said,” cried Madame Jeanrenaud. “That is something like a judge! Look here, my dear sir, I would hug you if I were not so ugly; you speak like a book.”
The Marquis held out his hand to Popinot, who gently pressed it with a look full of sympathetic comprehension at this great man in private life, and the Marquis responded with a pleasant smile. These two natures, both so large and full—one commonplace but divinely kind, the other lofty and sublime—had fallen into unison gently, without a jar, without a flash of passion, as though two pure lights had been merged into one. The father of a whole district felt himself worthy to grasp the hand of this man who was doubly noble, and the Marquis felt in the depths of his soul an instinct that told him that the judge’s hand was one of those from which the treasures of inexhaustible beneficence perennially flow.
“Monsieur le Marquis,” added Popinot, with a bow, “I am happy to be able to tell you that, from the first words of this inquiry, I regarded my clerk as quite unnecessary.”
He went close to M. d’Espard, led him into the window-bay, and said: “It is time that you should return home, monsieur. I believe that Madame la Marquise has acted in this matter under an influence which you ought at once to counteract.”
Popinot withdrew. He looked back several times as he crossed the courtyard, touched by the recollection of the scene. It was one of those which take root in the memory to blossom again in certain hours when the soul seeks consolation.
“Those rooms would just suit me,” said he to himself as he reached home. “If M. d’Espard leaves them, I will take up his lease.”
The next day, at about ten in the morning, Popinot, who had written out his report the previous evening, made his way to the Palais de Justice, intending to have prompt and righteous justice done. As he went to the robing-room to put on his gown and bands, the usher told him that the President of his Court begged him to attend in his private room, where he was waiting for him. Popinot forthwith obeyed.
“Good morning, my dear Popinot,” said the President, “I have been waiting for you.”
“Why, Monsieur le Président, is anything wrong?”
“A mere silly trifle,” said the President. “The Keeper of the Seals, with whom I had the honor of dining yesterday, led me apart into a corner. He had heard that you had been to tea with Madame d’Espard, in whose case you were employed to make inquiries. He gave me to understand that it would be as well that you should not sit on this case—”
“But, Monsieur le Président, I can prove that I left Madame d’Espard’s house at the moment when tea was brought in. And my conscience—”
“Yes, yes; the whole Bench, the two Courts, all the profession know you. I need not repeat what I said about you to his Eminence; but, you know, ‘Caesar’s wife must not be suspected.’ So we shall not make this foolish trifle a matter of discipline, but only of proprieties. Between ourselves, it is not on your account, but on that of the Bench.”
“But, monsieur, if you only knew the kind of woman—” said the judge, trying to pull his report out of his pocket.
“I am perfectly certain that you have proceeded in this matter with the strictest independence of judgment. I myself, in the provinces, have often taken more than a cup of tea with the people I had to try; but the fact that the Keeper of the Seals should have mentioned it, and that you might be talked about, is enough to make the Court avoid any discussion of the matter. Any conflict with public opinion must always be dangerous for a constitutional body, even when the right is on its side against the public, because their weapons are not equal. Journalism may say or suppose anything, and our dignity forbids us even to reply. In fact, I have spoken of the matter to your President, and M. Camusot has been appointed in your place on your retirement, which you will signify. It is a family matter, so to speak. And I now beg you to signify your retirement from the case as a personal favor. To make up, you will get the Cross of the Legion of Honor, which has so long been due to you. I make that my business.”
When he saw M. Camusot, a judge recently called to Paris from
