"But nothing," pursued the mayor, "can justify a curiosity, which by its
importunate attempts to be satisfied, embarrasses the investigation, and
is, at all events, a punishable interference with the cause of justice.
Why this unwonted gathering? Why these rumors and noises? These
premature conjectures?"
"There were several consultations," said M. Plantat, "which did not have
favorable results. Sauvresy suffered altogether strange and
unaccountable tortures. He complained of troubles so unwonted, so
absurd, if you'll excuse the word, that he discouraged all the
conjectures of the most experienced physicians."
"Was it not R---, of Paris, who attended him?"
"Exactly. He came daily, and often remained overnight. Many times I have
seen him ascending the principal street of the village, with troubled
countenance, as he went to give his prescription to the apothecary.
"Be wise enough," cried M. Courtois, "to moderate your just anger; be
calm; be dignified."
"Surely," continued Dr. Gendron, "your apothecary is an intelligent man;
but you have at Orcival a fellow who quite outdoes him, a fellow who
knows how to make money; one Robelot--"
"Robelot, the bone-setter?"
"That's the man. I suspect him of giving consultations, and prescribing
sub rosa. He is very clever. In fact I educated him. Five or six years
ago, he was my laboratory boy, and even now I employ him when I have a
delicate operation on hand--"
The doctor stopped, struck by the alteration in the impassible Plantat's
features.
"What is the matter, my friend?" he asked. "Are you ill?"
The judge left his notes, to look at him. "Why," said he, "Monsieur
Plantat is very pale--"
But M. Plantat speedily resumed his habitual expression.
"'Tis nothing," he answered, "really nothing. With my abominable
stomach, as soon as I change my hour of eating--"
Having reached his peroration, M. Courtois raised his voice.
"Return," said he, "to your peaceable homes, your quiet avocations. Rest
assured the law protects you. Already justice has begun its work; two of
the criminals are in its power, and we are on the track of their
accomplices."
"Of all the servants of the chateau," remarked M. Plantat, "there
remains not one who knew Sauvresy. The domestics have one by one been
replaced."
"No doubt," answered the doctor, "the sight of the old servants would be
disagreeable to Monsieur de Tremorel."
He was interrupted by the mayor, who re-entered, his eyes glowing, his
face animated, wiping his forehead.
"I have let the people know," said he, "the indecency of their
curiosity. They have all gone away. They were anxious to get at Philippe
Bertaud, the brigadier says; public opinion has a sharp scent."
Hearing the door open, he turned, and found himself face to face with a
man whose features were scarcely visible, so profoundly did he bow, his
hat pressed against his breast.
"What do you wish?" sternly asked M. Courtois. "By what right have you
come in here?--Who are you?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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