“When women determine to be prudent and suspicious,” remarked M. de Chandore, “they never are so by halves.”

“It is evident, besides,” added M. Folgat, “that the Countess Claudieuse would never have determined upon so bold a crime, if she had not been quite sure, that after the burning of her letters, no proof could be brought against her.”

“That is it!” cried the doctor.

M. Magloire did not conceal his impatience.  He said dryly,—­

“Unfortunately, gentlemen, it does not depend on you to acquit or condemn M. de Boiscoran.  I am not here to convince you, or to be convinced:  I came to discuss with M. de Boiscoran’s friends our line of conduct, and the basis of or defence.”

And M. Magloire was evidently right in this estimate of his duty.  He went and leaned against the mantelpiece; and, when the others had taken their seats around him, he began,—­

“In the first place, I will admit the allegations made by M. de Boiscoran.  He is innocent.  He has been the lover of Countess Claudieuse; but he has no proof.  This being granted, what is to be done?  Shall I advise him to send for the magistrate, and to confess it all?”

No one replied at first.  It was only after a long silence that Dr. Seignebos said,—­

“That would be very serious.”

“Very serious, indeed,” repeated the famous lawyer.  “Our own feelings give us the measure of what M. Galpin will think.  First of all, he, also, will ask for proof, the evidence of a witness, any thing, in fact.  And, when Jacques tells him that he has nothing to give but his word, M. Galpin will tell him that he does not speak the truth.”

“He might, perhaps, consent to extend the investigation,” said M. Seneschal.  “He might possibly summon the countess.”

M. Magloire nodded, and said,—­

“He would certainly summon her.  But, then, would she confess?  It would be madness to expect that.  If she is guilty, she is far too strong-minded to let the truth escape her.  She would deny every thing, haughtily, magnificently, and in such a manner as not to leave a shadow of doubt.”

“That is only too probable,” growled the doctor.  “That poor Galpin is not the strongest of men.”

“What would be the result of such a step?” asked M. Magloire.  “M. de Boiscoran’s case would be a hundred times worse; for to his crime would now be added the odium of the meanest, vilest calumny.”

M. Folgat was following with the utmost attention.  He said,—­

“I am very glad to hear my honorable colleague give utterance to that opinion.  We must give up all hope of delaying the proceedings, and let M. de Boiscoran go into court at once.”

M. de Chandore raised his hands to heaven, as if in sheer despair.

“But Dionysia will die of grief and shame,” he exclaimed.

M. Magloire, absorbed in his own views, went on,—­