“Then the case will come on,” was Camusot’s comment.
“Could you doubt it?” asked du Coudrai. “Now they have got the Count, all is over.”
“There is the jury,” said Camusot. “In this case M. le Préfet is sure to take care that after the challenges from the prosecution and the defence, the jury to a man will be for an acquittal.—My advice would be to come to a compromise,” he added, turning to du Croisier.
“Compromise!” echoed the President; “why, he is in the hands of justice.”
“Acquitted or convicted, the Comte d’Esgrignon will be dishonored all the same,” put in Sauvager.
“I am bringing an action,”6 said du Croisier. “I shall have Dupin senior. We shall see how the d’Esgrignon family will escape out of his clutches.”
“The d’Esgrignons will defend the case and have counsel from Paris; they will have Berryer,” said Mme. Camusot. “You will have a Roland for your Oliver.”
Du Croisier, M. Sauvager, and the President du Ronceret looked at Camusot, and one thought troubled their minds. The lady’s tone, the way in which she flung her proverb in the faces of the eight conspirators against the house of d’Esgrignon, caused them inward perturbation, which they dissembled as provincials can dissemble, by dint of lifelong practice in the shifts of a monastic existence. Little Mme. Camusot saw their change of countenance and subsequent composure when they scented opposition on the part of the examining magistrate. When her husband unveiled the thoughts in the back of his own mind, she had tried to plumb the depths of hate in du Croisier’s adherents. She wanted to find out how du Croisier had gained over this deputy public prosecutor, who had acted so promptly and so directly in opposition to the views of the central power.
“In any case,” continued she, “if celebrated counsel come down from Paris, there is a prospect of a very interesting session in the Court of Assize; but the matter will be snuffed out between the Tribunal and the Court of Appeal. It is only to be expected that the Government should do all that can be done, below the surface, to save a young man who comes of a great family, and has the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse for a friend. So I think that we shall have a ‘sensation at Landernau.’ ”
“How you go on, madame!” the President said sternly. “Can you suppose that the Court of First Instance will be influenced by considerations which have nothing to do with justice?”
“The event proves the contrary,” she said meaningly, looking full at Sauvager and the President, who glanced coldly at her.
“Explain yourself, madame,” said Sauvager. “You speak as if we had not done our duty.”
“Mme. Camusot meant nothing,” interposed her husband.
“But has not M. le Président just said something prejudicing a case which depends on the examination of the prisoner?” said she. “And the evidence is still to be taken, and the Court had not given its decision?”
“We are not at the law-courts,” the deputy public prosecutor replied tartly; “and besides, we know all that.”
“But the public prosecutor knows nothing at all about it yet,” returned she, with an ironical glance. “He will come back from the Chamber of Deputies in all haste. You have cut out his work for him, and he, no doubt, will speak for himself.”
The deputy prosecutor knitted his thick bushy brows. Those interested read tardy scruples in his countenance. A great silence followed, broken by no sound but the dealing of the cards. M. and Mme. Camusot, sensible of a decided chill in the atmosphere, took their departure to leave the conspirators to talk at their ease.
“Camusot,” the lady began in the street, “you went too far. Why lead those people to suspect that you will have no part in their schemes? They will play you some ugly trick.”
“What can they do? I am the only examining magistrate.”
“Cannot they slander you in whispers, and procure your dismissal?”
At that very moment Chesnel ran up against the couple. The old notary recognized the examining magistrate; and with the lucidity which comes of an experience of business, he saw that the fate of the d’Esgrignons lay in the hands of the young man before him.
“Ah, sir!” he exclaimed, “we shall soon need you badly. Just a word with you.—Your pardon, madame,” he added, as he drew Camusot aside.
Mme. Camusot, as a good conspirator, looked towards du Croisier’s house, ready to break up the conversation if anybody appeared; but she thought, and thought rightly, that their enemies were busy discussing this unexpected turn which she had given to the affair. Chesnel meanwhile drew the magistrate into a dark corner under the wall, and lowered his voice for his companion’s ear.
“If you are for the house of d’Esgrignon,” he said, “Mme. la Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, the Prince of Cadignan, the Ducs de Navarreins and de Lenoncourt, the Keeper of the Seals, the Chancellor, the King himself, will interest themselves in you. I have just come from Paris; I knew all about this; I went posthaste to explain everything at Court. We are counting on you, and I will keep your secret. If you are hostile, I shall go back to Paris tomorrow and lodge a complaint with the Keeper of the Seals that there is a suspicion of corruption. Several functionaries were at du Croisier’s house tonight, and no doubt, ate and drank there, contrary to law; and besides, they are friends of his.”
Chesnel would have brought the Almighty to intervene if he had had the power. He did not wait for an answer; he left Camusot and fled like a deer towards du Croisier’s house. Camusot, meanwhile, bidden to reveal the notary’s confidences, was at once assailed with, “Was I not right, dear?”—a wifely formula used on all occasions, but rather more vehemently when the fair speaker is in the wrong. By the time they reached home, Camusot had admitted the superiority of his partner in life, and appreciated his good fortune in belonging to
