“You are afraid, dear sir,” he had said to himself.

And as M. Galpin repeated the injunction, adding that the honor of justice required the utmost courtesy when rigor was not to be employed, the old clerk replied very gravely,—­

“Oh! be reassured, sir.  I shall not be wanting in courtesy.”

But, as soon as the magistrate turned his back, Mechinet laughed aloud.

“He would not recommend me to be obliging,” he thought, “if he suspected the truth, and knew how far I am devoted to the defence.  What a fury he would be in, if he should ever find out that I have betrayed all the secrets of the investigation, that I have carried letters to and from the prisoner, that I have made of Trumence an accomplice, and of Blangin the jailer an agent, that I have helped Miss Dionysia to visit her betrothed in jail!”

For he had done all this four times more than enough to be dismissed from his place, and even to become, at least for some months, one of Blangin’s boarders.  He shivered all down his back when he thought of this; and he had been furiously angry, when, one evening, his sisters, the devout seamstresses, had taken it into their heads to say to him,—­

“Certainly, Mechinet, you are a different man ever since that visit of Miss Chandore.”

“Abominable talkers!” he had exclaimed, in a tone of voice which frightened them out of their wits.  “Do you want to see me hanged?”

But, if he had these attacks of rage, he felt not a moment’s remorse.  Miss Dionysia had completely bewitched him; and he judged M. Galpin’s conduct as severely as she did.

To be sure, M. Galpin had done nothing contrary to law; but he had violated the spirit of the law.  Having once summoned courage to begin proceedings against his friend, he had not been able to remain impartial.  Afraid of being charged with timidity, he had exaggerated his severity.  And, above all, he had carried on the inquiry solely in the interests of a conviction, as if the crime had been proved, and the prisoner had not protested his innocence.

Now, Mechinet firmly believed in this innocence; and he was fully persuaded that the day on which Jacques de Boiscoran saw his counsel would be the day of his justification.  This will show with what eagerness he went to the court-house to wait for M. Magloire.

But at noon the great lawyer had not yet come.  He was still consulting with M. de Chandore.

“Could any thing amiss have happened?” thought the clerk.

And his restlessness was so great, that, instead of going home to breakfast with his sisters, he sent an office-boy for a roll and a glass of water.  At last, as three o’clock struck, M. Magloire and M. Folgat arrived; and Mechinet saw at once in their faces, that he had been mistaken, and that Jacques had not explained.  Still, before M. Magloire, he did not dare inquire.

“Here are the papers,” he said simply, putting upon the table an immense box.