He drew near to many groups and listened to what they were saying. The docket of the session was very heavy; the president had appointed for the same day two short and simple cases. They had begun with the infanticide, and now they had reached the convict, the old offender, the “return horse.” This man had stolen apples, but that did not appear to be entirely proved; what had been proved was, that he had already been in the galleys at Toulon. It was that which lent a bad aspect to his case. However, the man’s examination and the depositions of the witnesses had been completed, but the lawyer’s plea, and the speech of the public prosecutor were still to come; it could not be finished before midnight. The man would probably be condemned; the attorney-general was very clever, and never _missed_ his culprits; he was a brilliant fellow who wrote verses. An usher stood at the door communicating with the hall of the Assizes. He inquired of this usher:— “Will the door be opened soon, sir?” “It will not be opened at all,” replied the usher. “What! It will not be opened when the hearing is resumed? Is not the hearing suspended?” “The hearing has just been begun again,” replied the usher, “but the door will not be opened again.” “Why?” “Because the hall is full.” “What! There is not room for one more?” “Not another one. The door is closed. No one can enter now.” The usher added after a pause: “There are, to tell the truth, two or three extra places behind Monsieur le Président, but Monsieur le Président only admits public functionaries to them.” So saying, the usher turned his back. He retired with bowed head, traversed the antechamber, and slowly descended the stairs, as though hesitating at every step. It is probable that he was holding counsel with himself. The violent conflict which had been going on within him since the preceding evening was not yet ended; and every moment he encountered some new phase of it. On reaching the landing-place, he leaned his back against the balusters and folded his arms. All at once he opened his coat, drew out his pocket-book, took from it a pencil, tore out a leaf, and upon that leaf he wrote rapidly, by the light of the street lantern, this line: _M. Madeleine, Mayor of M. sur M._; then he ascended the stairs once more with great strides, made his way through the crowd, walked straight up to the usher, handed him the paper, and said in an authoritative manner:— “Take this to Monsieur le Président.” The usher took the paper, cast a glance upon it, and obeyed. CHAPTER VIII—AN ENTRANCE BY FAVOR