“Jacques,” murmured the old marchioness,--“my son!” “I said in danger,” repeated the advocate; “but I ought to have said, he is in a strange, almost incredible, unnatural position.” “Let us hear,” said the marchioness. The lawyer was evidently very much embarrassed; and he looked with unmistakable distress, first at Dionysia, and then at the two old aunts. But nobody noticed this, and so he said,-- “I must ask to be left alone with these gentlemen.” In the most docile manner the Misses Lavarande rose, and took their niece and Jacques’s mother with them: the latter was evidently near fainting. As soon as the door was shut, Grandpapa Chandore, half mad with grief, exclaimed,-- “Thanks, M. Magloire, thanks for having given me time to prepare my poor child for the terrible blow. I see but too well what you are going to say. Jacques is guilty.” “Stop,” said the advocate: “I have said nothing of the kind. M. de Boiscoran still protests energetically that he is innocent; but he states in his defence a fact which is so entirely improbable, so utterly inadmissible”-- “But what does he say?” asked M. Seneschal. “He says that the Countess Claudieuse has been his mistress.” Dr. Seignebos started, and, readjusting his spectacles, he cried triumphantly,-- “I said so! I have guessed it!” M. Folgat had, on this occasion, very naturally, no deliberative voice. He came from Paris, with Paris ideas; and, whatever he might have been told, the name of the Countess Claudieuse revealed to him nothing. But, from the effect which it produced upon the others, he could judge what Jacques’s accusation meant. Far from being of the doctor’s opinion M. de Chandore and M. Seneschal both seemed to be as much shocked as M. Magloire. “That is incredible,” said one. “That is impossible,” added the other. M. Magloire shook his head, and said,-- “That is exactly what I told Jacques.” But the doctor was not the man to be surprised at what public opinion said, much less to fear it. He exclaimed,-- “Don’t you hear what I say? Don’t you understand me? The proof that the thing is neither so incredible nor so impossible is, that I had suspected it. And there were signs of it, I should think. Why on earth should a man like Jacques, young, rich, well made, in love with a charming girl, and beloved by her, why should he amuse himself with setting houses on fire, and killing people? You tell me he did not like Count Claudieuse. Upon my word! If everybody who does not like Dr. Seignebos were to come and fire at him forthwith, do you know my body would look like a sieve! Among you all, M. Folgat is the only one who has not been struck with blindness.” The young lawyer tried modestly to protest. “Sir”-- But the other cut him short, and went on,--