Notwithstanding, however, this nonchalance, and professed ignorance of the affairs of De Pontis, there was that in his discourse which encouraged the advocate to persevere. His affectation of candor—the confession wrung from him!—rather overshot the mark, and betrayed weakness. Fontrailles was not the man to suffer any thing to be wrung from him; and the plea of want of personal weight and character, a mere mask. But wherefore interpose a mask, if there were nothing to conceal? ’Tis the most difficult part of simulation to refrain from covert defence of an act, of which the party may be acutely self-conscious, but desirous of concealing. With a shrewd, subtle, penetrating adversary—such for instance as Giraud—it defeats the very object, to aid which it is evoked. In the mild, moderate language of the count, the advocate felt that he was speaking in a falsetto key—that the sentiments were foreign to his natural character; and there was not, or ought not to be, any necessity for extreme complaisance, and disguise of feeling, with one of the comparative humbleness of the auditor. Giraud arose from his seat in unison with the count’s movement, but had no intention of taking leave. “It is reported,” said he, “that Monseigneur is interested in the _droit d’aubaine_ for which Monsieur De Pontis holds the sign manual, which may, perhaps, furnish a better argument than I have yet advanced for my appeal.” “I know of no such report!” exclaimed the count, in a stern voice, “evil news flies quick, and had such been current, I have too many friends, glad of an opportunity to retail the slander, that they might watch its effect. But I must retract the high opinion I had of Monsieur Giraud, in carrying these fools’ messages—perhaps inventing. But we had better part, sir, ere I have reason to suspect worse of your motives.” With these words, the count approached the table and rang a silver bell, a signal to the lackey in attendance to conduct the visiter to the gate. “I have that to say, Monsieur le Comte, which it were better your household should not hear,” said the advocate, retaining his place. “Ah! has it come to that?” exclaimed Fontrailles, darting a glance of anger; “so, the pleader threatens! Like the Spanish mendicant, he first solicits alms, and when refused, points the fusil which he had concealed in the grass.” The lackey here entered in obedience to the summons, but the count motioned him to retire.