He had been informed as promptly as M. Folgat, and had, with equal promptness, dressed, and hastened to the prison. And all along his way, unmistakable evidence had proved to him that public opinion was fiercely roused against the accused, but that it was as deeply excited against himself.
On all sides he had been greeted by ironical salutations, mocking smiles, and even expressions of condolence at the loss of his prisoner. Two men, whom he suspected of being in close relations with Dr. Seignebos, had even murmured, as he passed by them,--"Cheated, Mr. Bloodhound."
He was the first to notice the young advocate, and at once said to him,--"Well, sir, do you come for news?"
But M. Folgat was not the man to be taken in twice the same day.
Concealing his apprehensions under the most punctilious politeness, he replied,--"I have heard all kinds of reports; but they do not affect me. M. de Boiscoran has too much confidence in the excellency of his cause and the justice of his country to think of escaping. I only came to confer with him.""And you are right!" exclaimed M. Daubigeon. "M. de Boiscoran is in his cell, utterly unaware of all the rumors that are afloat. It was Trumence who has run off,--Trumence, the light-footed. He was kept in prison for form's sake only, and helped the keeper as a kind of assistant jailer. He it is who has made a hole in the wall, and escaped, thinking, no doubt, that the heavens are a better roof than the finest jail."A little distance behind the group stood Blangin, the jailer, affecting a contrite and distressed air.
"Take the counsel to the prisoner Boiscoran," said M. Galpin dryly, fearing, perhaps, that M. Daubigeon might regale the public with all the bitter epigrams with which he persecuted him privately. The jailer bowed to the ground, and obeyed the order; but, as soon as he was alone with M. Folgat in the porch of the building, he blew up his cheek, and then tapped it, saying,--"Cheated all around,"
Then he burst out laughing. The young advocate pretended not to understand him. It was but prudent that he should appear ignorant of what had happened the night before, and thus avoid all suspicion of a complicity which substantially did not exist.
"And still," Blangin went on, "this is not the end of it yet. The gendarmes are all out. If they should catch my poor Trumence! That man is such a fool, the most stupid judge would worm his secret out of him in five minutes. And then, who would be in a bad box?"M. Folgat still made no reply; but the other did not seem to mind that much. He continued,--"I only want to do one thing, and that is to give up my keys as soon as possible. I am tired of this profession of jailer. Besides, I shall not be able to stay here much longer. This escape has put a flea into the ear of the authorities, and they are going to give me an assistant, a former police sergeant, who is as bad as a watchdog. Ah!
the good days of M. de Boiscoran are over: no more stolen visits, no more promenades. He is to be watched day and night."Blangin had stopped at the foot of the staircase to give all these explanations.
"Let us go up," he said now, as M. Folgat showed signs of growing impatience.
He found Jacques lying on his bed, all dressed; and at the first glance he saw that a great misfortune had happened.
"One more hope gone?" he asked.
The prisoner raised himself up with difficulty, and sat up on the side of his bed; then he replied in a voice of utter despair,--"I am lost, and this time hopelessly."
"Oh!"
"Just listen!"
The young advocate could not help shuddering as he heard the account given by Jacques of what had happened the night before. And when it was finished, he said,--"You are right. If Count Claudieuse carries out his threat, it may be a condemnation.""It must be a condemnation, you mean. Well, you need not doubt. He will carry out his threat."And shaking his head with an air of desolation, he added,--"And the most formidable part of it is this: I cannot blame him for doing it. The jealousy of husbands is often nothing more than self-love. When they find they have been deceived, their vanity is offended; but their heart remains whole. But in this case it is very different. He not only loved his wife, he worshipped her. She was his happiness, life itself. When I took her from him, I robbed him of all he had,--yes, of all! I never knew what *****ery meant till I saw him overcome with shame and rage. He was left without any thing in a moment. His wife had a lover: his favorite daughter was not his own! Isuffer terribly; but it is nothing, I am sure, in comparison with what he suffers. And you expect, that, holding a weapon in his hand, he should not use it? It is a treacherous, dishonest weapon, to be sure;but have I been frank and honest? It would be a mean, ignoble vengeance, you will say; but what was the offence? In his place, Idare say, I should do as he does."
M. Folgat was thunderstruck.
"But after that," he asked, "when you left the house?"Jacques passed his hand mechanically over his forehead, as if to gather his thoughts, and then went on,--"After that I fled precipitately, like a man who has committed a crime. The garden-door was open, and I rushed out. I could not tell you with certainty in what direction I ran, through what streets Ipassed. I had but one fixed idea,--to get away from that house as quickly and as far as possible. I did not know what I was doing. Iwent, I went. When I came to myself, I was many miles away from Sauveterre, on the road to Boiscoran. The instinct of the animal within me had guided me on the familiar way to my house. At the first moment I could not comprehend how I had gotten there. I felt like a drunkard whose head is filled with the vapors of alcohol, and who, when he is roused, tries to remember what has happened during his intoxication. Alas! I recalled the fearful reality but too soon. Iknew that I ought to go back to prison, that it was an absolute necessity; and yet I felt at times so weary, so exhausted, that I was afraid I should not be able to get back. Still I did reach the prison.
