M. Magloire had stripped it of all unnecessary comments, of idle conjecture, and all sentimental phraseology, and placed it before them as it had to be looked at, in all its fearful simplicity. Grandpapa Chandore was terrified. He rose, and said in an almost inaudible voice,-- “Ah, all is over indeed! Innocent, or guilty, Jacques de Boiscoran will be condemned.” M. Magloire made no reply. “And that is,” continued the old gentleman, “what you call justice!” “Alas!” sighed M. Seneschal, “it is useless to deny it: trials by jury are a lottery.” M. de Chandore, driven nearly to madness by his despair, interrupted him,-- “In other words, Jacques’s honor and life depend at this hour on a chance,--on the weather on the day of the trial, or the health of a juror. And if Jacques was the only one! But there is Dionysia’s life, gentlemen, my child’s life, also at stake. If you strike Jacques, you strike Dionysia!” M. Folgat could hardly restrain a tear. M. Seneschal, and even the doctor, shuddered at such grief in an old man, who was threatened in all that was dearest to him,--in his one great love upon earth. He had taken the hand of the great advocate of Sauveterre, and, pressing it convulsively, he went on,-- “You will save him, Magloire, won’t you? What does it matter whether he be innocent or guilty, since Dionysia loves him? You have saved so many in your life! It is well known the judges cannot resist the weight of your words. You will find means to save a poor, unhappy man who once was your friend.” The eminent lawyer looked cast-down, as if he had been guilty himself. When Dr. Seignebos saw this, he exclaimed,-- “What do you mean, friend Magloire? Are you no longer the man whose marvellous eloquence is the pride of our country? Hold your head up: for shame! Never was a nobler cause intrusted to you.” But he shook his head, and murmured,-- “I have no faith in it; and I cannot plead when my conscience does not furnish the arguments.” And becoming more and more embarrassed, he added,-- “Seignebos was right in saying just now, I am not the man for such a cause. Here all my experience would be of no use. It will be better to intrust it to my young brother here.” For the first time in his life, M. Folgat came here upon a case such as enables a man to rise to eminence, and to open a great future before him. For the first time, he came upon a case in which were united all the elements of supreme interest,--greatness of crime, eminence of victim, character of the accused, mystery, variety of opinions, difficulty of defence, and uncertainty of issue,--one of those causes for which an advocate is filled with enthusiasm, which he seizes upon with all his energies, and in which he shares all the anxiety and all the hopes with his client. He would readily have given five years’ income to be offered the management of this case; but he was, above all, an honest man. He said, therefore,--