CHAPTER XVI

THE JUDGMENT

On the day of judgment on Létorière's lawsuit, the three councillor's met at the palace. Their ballot was to be secret, the votes being deposited in an urn.

Before the session, Henferester, Flachsinfingen, and Sphex exchanged some cool civilities, at the same time scrutinizing each other with some anxiety; once the doctor thought of interesting Flachsinfingen in Létorière's favor; but he was afraid of compromising his _protégé_'s cause instead of helping it. The others, feeling a similar fear, concealed their intentions, and chattered about matters remote from the lawsuit.

"This fine young man is surely going to lose his lawsuit; he will be the victim of the unjust partiality of my associates, but my voice at least shall be raised in his favor."

Such was the private reflection of each judge.

When the merits of the case had been set forth anew by the lawyers, after a long session occupied in listening to, not in discussing the facts, the three councillors arose and solemnly deposited their votes in the urn.

The Baron of Henferester, who on that day presided over the court, ordered the recorder to examine the ballot.

Each councillor had written on a slip of paper the name of the party who, in his opinion, had the right of the cause.

The recorder plunged his hand into the urn, drew out a ballot, and read: _The Marquis of Létorière._

"That is my vote," said each councillor to himself.

At the second ballot the recorder read again: _The Marquis of Létorière._

The councillors began to look at each other uneasily.

On the third ballot the recorder again read: _The Marquis of Létorière._

The stupefaction of the three magistrates was complete.

The recorder registered the judgment. All the judicial formalities having been fulfilled, the councillors returned to the council-room.

Notwithstanding their joy at the Marquis's triumph, they were greatly astonished by this strange coincidence of opinion; so they were eager for an explanation.

"How the devil did you ever come to vote for the Marquis?" impetuously cried the baron, addressing Flachsinfingen and Sphex.

"I was going to ask you the same question," replied Sphex. "How is it that you decided to give him your vote? And you, too, Flachsinfingen?"

"Oh, with me it is very different," said the baron. "Between ourselves we can speak frankly. You must admit that one founds his preferences on similarity of pursuits; is it not so? Well, it is because my dogs and those of the Marquis hunt together, as the saying is, that I have given my vote to him. In a word, he is a man whose character, manners, and habits please me. I promised him my vote, feeling that his cause was hopeless, knowing well that both of you would be hostile to him. I am delighted that he has gained it; but, may the devil strangle me if I can understand how and why you voted for him!"

"The character and the habits of the Marquis please you?" cried Sphex and Flachsinfingen, with one voice, both astounded.

"Certainly, never a bolder hunter has sounded his trumpet in our forests . . . never a gayer companion, never a freer drinker has emptied his tankard _supernaculum_, as the French say!"

The two councillors laughed in the baron's face.

"A bold hunter! . . . A blower of trumpets, he! a poor young Latinist! a poor scholar!" said Sphex, giving way to his hilarity, and shrugging his shoulders with pity.

"A hard drinker! . . . a gay companion! . . . this ingenuous youth who quotes the Bible so _apropos!_ this timid lad who cannot look at my wife without blushing up to his ears!" cried Flachsinfingen, with a laugh not less sardonic.

"The . . . the Marquis! a scholar and a Latinist! . . . The Marquis quoting the Bible and blushing before a woman!" repeated the baron, laughing immoderately. "Ha, ha! my friends, you are fools, or rather you see everything through your own glasses."

"You are a fool yourself, with your hunting-horns and your tankards," cried Sphex, angrily. "What can there be in common, I should like to know, between the Marquis and the course amusements of gladiators and drunkards?" added the doctor, with an expression of supreme contempt. "You wouldn't have fallen into such an error, my dear baron, if you had heard Létorière recite and comment upon the admirable verses of the king of the Latin poets of antiquity!" . . .

"I!"--cried the baron in a rage--"I believe what my eyes have seen, and not the dream of a sickly imagination! In my presence the Marquis has killed a deer with the finest possible stroke of the knife! In my presence he has wound a horn better than the first huntsman of the imperial hounds! In two days he has drank, in my presence, more beer, more Rhine wine and more kirchenwasser than you ever drank in all your life, Dr. Sphex! In my presence he has mounted my old Elphin, which many huntsmen have found difficult! Well, once again I tell you, you and Flachsinfingen both, that Létorière, a rough and bold cavalier, is too well acquainted with the spear, the hunting-horn and the glass, to lose his time in turning pale before old he-goats, or blushing before a woman! Again I tell you, you are two dreamers."

At this outburst the two other councillors fell foul of one another, and the discussion soon became so violent, that the three judges, all speaking at once, could not make themselves heard.

The presence of an usher of the council was necessary to put a stop to this incomprehensible conversation.

The usher approached Flachsinfingen, and whispered in his ear. . . .

"Gentlemen," said he, "my wife desires to speak to me; will you listen to her? She will inevitably throw light on this discussion, for she has conversed for two whole hours with M. de Létorière. . . . Listen to her, and you will see that what I have said is the exact truth."

"Let her come in, if she wishes," cried the baron. "But in spite of all the petticoats in Germany, I repeat that I have seen Létorière kill a deer with his own hand, and that he can drink as much as I can."

"And in spite of all the hunters, whippers-in, and drinkers in Germany," cried Dr. Sphex, "I maintain that I have heard Létorière recite verses of Persius, and comment upon them more learnedly than the most learned professors of our universities could do. And you will never make me believe, baron, that so erudite a man, with such a refined mind, could hunt in the forest like a poacher, or drink like a pandour."

"And I, in spite of all the professors, all the huntsmen, all the drinkers in the empire, will maintain that I have seen Létorière tremble like a child before my wife, who was obliged to reassure him, and that I heard him quote Scripture as piously as a minister," cried Flachsinfingen,--exasperated in his turn. "One need only to see the Marquis to be assured there is nothing in his appearance or manner that smacks of the gladiator."

The _conseillère_ entered in the midst of these contradictory allegations.

"I doubt not, gentlemen," said Flachsinfingen, "that my wife will be able to bring you into agreement; thus far she has been a stranger to our discussion, and--"

But Martha did not let her husband finish; addressing the doctor and baron with an affable and complimentary air,--

"Nothing is talked of, gentlemen, but the success of the Marquis of Létorière; permit me to congratulate you on this unexpected unanimity of judgment. . . . Thanks to your wise agreement, gentlemen, it may be said that the cause of innocence and religion has triumphed! In my opinion this poor child Létorière represents, in a wonderful degree, innocence and religion in their moral as well as physical aspects, if I may so express myself, for he has the look of an angel."

"There,--what did I tell you, gentlemen?" cried Flachsinfingen.

"And what devil of an angel and a child are you talking about, if you please, madam?" asked the baron.

The lady replied, rather sharply:

"I speak, sir, of a poor child whom you know as well as I do, for you tried to make him drink, smoke and hunt, the innocent creature! when he went to visit you in order to interest you in his lawsuit. Oh, I know all, _Monsieur le Baron_; but escaping from your temptations, this angel courageously resisted; he drank water, as pure as his soul, and was not afraid to remind you of your religious duties, which you had forgotten . . ."

"But, zounds, madame!" cried the baron, "you don't know him." . . .

"I know all, I know all, I tell you," replied the lady, volubly; "but I forgive you, seeing by your vote that the might of innocence has been sufficient to overcome your unjust prejudices."

The baron was confounded, and said to himself: "If this lasts ten minutes longer, I shall have an apoplectic fit, I'm sure of it." . . .

"But, madame," cried Dr. Sphex, "you are sadly mistaken . . . and . . ."

"And you, too, sir," replied the councillor's wife, "have given him your vote, much to your credit! You have done well; but now tell me, how could you believe that a youth so religiously brought up . . . so religiously nourished on the Scriptures . . . would have stained his chaste mind with all your abominable profane literature! Why make it a crime in him for not knowing the verses of a certain . . . Persius . . . who, they say, is the most shameless of satirists?"

"By Hercules, madame, it was he who . . ."

"Ah, by Hercules! What a frightful pagan oath!" cried the lady, raising her hands towards heaven. "I know all, I tell you . . . but I will say to you as I did to the baron: since you have dismissed your unjust prejudices . . . and have joined my husband in helping the cause of our innocent _protégé_ to triumph . . . all glory and honor to you!"

"My dear baron . . . my nerves are horribly shaken by this scene," said the doctor, turning pale and seizing the baron's hands; "I am not well." . . .

"And I, my poor doctor, I am suffocating . . . I have vertigo . . . my head is splitting! I'm stifling . . . I need air!"

The door opened, and the ushers entered to announce that the Marquis of Létorière begged to have the honor of saluting and thanking the councillors. . . .

"'Tis God who sends him to us!" cried the _conseillère._ "Let him come in . . . let him come in! the sweet paschal lamb." . . .

"Now you will see this lamb-like drinker of pure water!" said the baron, with a sardonic laugh.

"Now you will see this enemy of profane antiquity!" said the doctor in the same tone, joyfully rubbing his hands.

"Now you will see this Nimrod!". . . said Flachsinfingen.

"Now you will see the pearl of young men!" said Martha, with the most profound and full conviction.