Within an Inch of His Life by Emile Gaboriau (latest novels to read txt) 📕

“That is so!” replied the old gentleman and M. Folgat.

Dr. Seignebos was triumphant. Gesticulating, and continually handling his spectacles, he added,—

“You see I have learnt to mistrust appearances; and hence I had my misgivings from the beginning. I watched the Countess Claudieuse the night of the fire; and I saw that she looked embarrassed, troubled, suspicious. I wondered at her readiness to yield to M. Galpin’s whim, and to allow Cocoleu to be examined; for I knew that she was the only one who could ever make that so-called idiot talk. You see I have good eyes, gentlemen, in spite of my spectacles. Well, I swear by all I hold most sacred, on my Republican faith, I am ready to affirm upon oath, that, when Cocoleu uttered Jacques de Boiscoran’s name, the countess exhibited no sign of surprise.”

Never before, in their life, had the mayor of Sauveterre and Dr. Seignebos been able to agree on any subject. This question was not likely to produce such an effect all of a sudden: hence M. Seneschal said,—

“I was present at Cocoleu’s examination, and I noticed, on the contrary, the amazement of the countess.”

The doctor raised his shoulders, and said,—

“Certainly she said, ‘Ah!’ But that is no proof. I, also, could very easily say, ‘Ah!’ if anybody should come and tell me that the mayor of Sauveterre was in the wrong; and still I should not be surprised.”

“Doctor!” said M. de Chandore, anxious to conciliate,—“doctor!”

But Dr. Seignebos had already turned to M. Magloire, whom he was anxious to convert, and went on,—

“Yes, the face of the Countess Claudieuse, expressed amazement; but her eyes spoke of bitter, fierce hatred, of joy, and of vengeance. And that is not all. Will you please tell me, Mr. Mayor, when Count Claudieuse was roused by the fire, was the countess by him? No, she was nursing her youngest daughter, who had the measles. Hm! What do you think of measles which make sitting up at night necessary? And when the two shots were fired, where was the countess then? Still with her daughter, and on the other side of the house from where the fire was.”

The mayor of Sauveterre was no less obstinate than the doctor. He at once objected,—

“I beg you will notice, doctor, that Count Claudieuse himself deposed how, when he ran to the fire, he found the door shut from within, just as he had left it a few hours before.”

Dr. Seignebos returned a most ironical bow, and then asked,—

“Is there really only one door in the chateau at Valpinson?”

“To my knowledge,” said M. de Chandore, “there are at least three.”

“And I must say,” added M. Magloire, “that according to M. de Boiscoran’s statement, the countess, on that evening, had gone out by the laundry-door when she came to meet him.”

“What did I say?” exclaimed the doctor.

And, wiping his glasses in a perfect rage, he added,—

“And the children! Does Mr. Mayor think it natural that the Countess Claudieuse, this incomparable mother in his estimation, should forget her children in the height of the fire?”

“What! The poor woman is called out by the discharge of fire-arms; she sees her house on fire; she stumbles over the lifeless body of her husband: and you blame her for not having preserved all her presence of mind.”

“That is one view of it; but it is not the one I take. I rather think that the countess, having been delayed out of doors, was prevented by the fire from getting in again. I think, also, that Cocoleu came very opportunely; and that it was very lucky Providence should inspire his mind with that sublime idea of saving the children at the risk of his life.”

This time M. Seneschal made no reply.

“Supported by all these facts,” continued the doctor, “my suspicions became so strong that I determined to ascertain the truth, if I could. The next day I questioned the countess, and, I must confess, rather treacherously. Her replies and her looks were not such as to modify my views. When I asked her, looking straight into her eyes, what she thought of Cocoleu’s mental condition, she nearly fainted; and she could hardly make me hear her when she said that she occasionally caught glimpses of intelligence in him. When I asked her if Cocoleu was fond of her, she said, in a most embarrassed manner, that his devotion was that of an animal which is grateful for the care taken of him. What do you think of that, gentlemen? To me it appeared that Cocoleu was at the bottom of the whole affair; that he knew the truth; and that I should be able to save Jacques, if I could prove Cocoleu’s imbecility to be assumed, and his speechlessness to be an imposture. And I would have proved it, if they had associated with me any one else but this ass and this jackanapes from Paris.”

He paused for a few seconds; but, without giving anybody time to reply, he went on,—

“Now, let us go back to our point of departure, and draw our conclusions. Why do you think it so improbable and impossible that the countess Claudieuse should have betrayed her duties? Because she has a world-wide reputation for purity and prudence. Well. But was not Jacques de Boiscoran’s reputation as a man of honor also above all doubt? According to your views, it is absurd to suspect the countess of having had a lover. According to my notions, it is absurd that Jacques should, overnight, have become a scoundrel.”

“Oh! that is not the same thing,” said M. Seneschal.

“Certainly not!” replied the doctor; “and there you are right, for once. If M. de Boiscoran had committed this crime, it would be one of those absurd crimes which are revolting to us; but, if committed by the countess, it is only the catastrophe prepared by Count Claudieuse on the day when he married a woman thirty years younger than he was.”

The great wrath of Dr. Seignebos was not always as formidable as it looked. Even when he appeared to be almost beside himself, he never said more than he intended to say, possessed as he was of that admirable southern quality, which enabled him to pour forth fire and flames, and to remain as cold as ice within, But in this case he showed what he thought fully. He had said quite enough, too, and had presented the whole affair under such a new aspect, that his friends became very thoughtful.

“You would have converted me, doctor,” said M. Folgat, “if I had not been of your opinion before.”

“I am sure,” added M. de Chandore, after hearing the doctor, “the thing no longer looks impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” said M. Seneschal, like a philosopher.

The eminent advocate of Sauveterre alone remained unmoved.

“Well,” said he, “I had rather admit one hour of utter insanity even than five years of such monstrous hypocrisy. Jacques may have committed the