Chapter 11
He was hideous at that moment, with his livid face spotted all over with red marks, his hanging lips covered with white foam, and his brutish glances.
"Why would you not come?" asked M. Seneschal.
The idiot looked as if he did not hear.
"Why did you bite Michael?" continued the mayor.
Cocoleu made no reply.
"Do you know that M. de Boiscoran is in prison because of what you have said?"
Still no reply.
"Ah!" said Michael, "it is of no use to question him. You might beat him till to-morrow, and he would rather give up the ghost than say a word."
"I am--I am hungry," stammered Cocoleu.
M. Folgat looked indignant.
"And to think," he said, "that, upon the testimony of such a thing, a capital charge has been made!"
Grandpapa Chandore seemed to be seriously embarrassed. He said,--
"But now, what in the world are we to do with the idiot?"
"I am going to take him," said M. Seneschal, "to the hospital. I will go with him myself, and let Dr. Seignebos know, and the commonwealth attorney."
Dr. Seignebos was an eccentric man, beyond doubt; and the absurd stories which his enemies attributed to him were not all unfounded. But he had, at all events, the rare quality of professing for his art, as he called it, a respect very nearly akin to enthusiasm. According to his views, the faculty were infallible, as much so as the pope, whom he denied. He would, to be sure, in confidence, admit that some of his colleagues were amazing donkeys; but he would never have allowed any one else to say so in his presence. From the moment that a man possessed the famous diploma which gives him the right over life and death, that man became in his eyes an august personage for the world at large. It was a crime, he thought, not to submit blindly to the decision of a physician. Hence his obstinacy in opposing M. Galpin, hence the bitterness of his contradictions, and the rudeness with which he had requested the "gentlemen of the law" to leave the room in which _his_ patient was lying.
"For these devils," he said, "would kill one man in order to get the means of cutting off another man's head."
And thereupon, resuming his probes and his sponge, he had gone to work once more, with the aid of the countess, digging out grain by grain the lead which had honeycombed the flesh of the count. At nine o'clock the work was done.
"Not that I fancy I have gotten them all out," he said modestly, "but, if there is any thing left, it is out of reach, and I shall have to wait for certain symptoms which will tell me where they are."
As he had foreseen, the count had grown rather worse. His first excitement had given way to perfect prostration; and he seemed to be insensible to what was going on around him. Fever began to show itself; and, considering the count's constitution, it was easily to be foreseen that delirium would set in before the day was out.
"Nevertheless, I think there is hardly any danger," said the doctor to the countess, after having pointed out to her all the probable symptoms, so as to keep her from being alarmed. Then he recommended to her to let no one approach her husband's bed, and M. Galpin least of all.
This recommendation was not useless; for almost at the same moment a peasant came in to say that there was a man from Sauveterre at the door who wished to see the count.
"Show him in," said the doctor; "I'll speak to him."
It was a man called Tetard, a former constable, who had given up his place, and become a dealer in stones. But besides being a former officer of justice and a merchant, as his cards told the world, he was also the agent of a fire insurance company. It was in this capacity that he presumed, as he told the countess, to present himself in person. He had been informed that the farm buildings at Valpinson, which were insured in his company, had been destroyed by fire; that they had been purposely set on fire by M. de Boiscoran; and that he wished to confer with Count Claudieuse on the subject. Far from him, he added, to decline the responsibility of his company: he only wished to establish the facts which would enable him to fall back upon M. de Boiscoran, who was a man of fortune, and would certainly be condemned to make compensation for the injury done. For this purpose, certain formalities had to be attended to; and he had come to arrange with Count Claudieuse the necessary measures.
"And I," said Dr. Seignebos,--"I request you to take to your heels." He added with a thundering voice,--
"I think you are very bold to dare to speak in that way of M. de Boiscoran."
M. Tetard disappeared without saying another word; and the doctor, very much excited by this scene, turned to the youngest daughter of the countess, the one with whom she was sitting up when the fire broke out, and who was now decidedly better: after that nothing could keep him at Valpinson. He carefully pocketed the pieces of lead which he had taken from the count's wounds, and then, drawing the countess out to the door, he said,--
"Before I go away, madam, I should like to know what you think of these events."
The poor lady, who looked as pale as death itself, could hardly hold up any longer. There seemed to be nothing alive in her but her eyes, which were lighted up with unusual brilliancy.
"Ah! I do not know, sir," she replied in a feeble voice. "How can I collect my thoughts after such terrible shocks?"
"Still you questioned Cocoleu."
"Who would not have done so, when the truth was at stake?"
"And you were not surprised at the name he mentioned?"
"You must have seen, sir."
"I saw; and that is exactly why I ask you, and why I want to know what you really think of the state of mind of the poor creature."
"Don't you know that he is idiotic?"
"I know; and that is why I was so surprised to see you insist upon making him talk. Do you really think, that, in spite of his habitual imbecility, he may have glimpses of sense?"
"He had, a few moments before, saved my children from death."
"That proves his devotion for you."
"He is very much attached to me indeed, just like a poor animal that I might have picked up and cared for."
"Perhaps so. And still he showed more than mere animal instinct."
"That may well be so. I have more than once noticed flashes of intelligence in Cocoleu."
The doctor had taken off his spectacles, and was wiping them furiously.
"It is a great pity that one of these flashes of intelligence did not enlighten him when he saw M. de Boiscoran make a fire and get ready to murder Count Claudieuse."
The countess leaned against the door-posts, as if about to faint.
"But it is exactly to his excitement at the sight of the flames, and at hearing the shots fired, that I ascribe Cocoleu's return to reason."
"May be," said the doctor, "may be."
Then putting on his spectacles again, he added,--
"That is a question to be decided by the professional men who will have to examine the poor imbecile creature."
"What! Is he going to be examined?"
"Yes, and very thoroughly, madam, I tell you. And now I have the honor of wishing you good-bye. However, I shall come back to-night, unless you should succeed during the day in finding lodgings in Sauveterre,--an arrangement which would be very desirable for myself, in the first place, and not less so for your husband and your daughter. They are not comfortable in this cottage."
Thereupon he lifted his hat, returned to town, and immediately asked M. Seneschal in the most imperious manner to have Cocoleu arrested. Unfortunately the gendarmes had been unsuccessful; and Dr. Seignebos, who saw how unfortunate all this was for Jacques, began to get terribly impatient, when on Saturday night, towards ten o'clock, M. Seneschal came in, and said,--
"Cocoleu is found."
The doctor jumped up, and in a moment his hat on his head, and stick in hand, asked,--
"Where is he?"
"At the hospital. I have seen him myself put into a separate room."
"I am going there."
"What, at this hour?"
"Am I not one of the hospital physicians? And is it not open to me by night and by day?"
"The sisters will be in bed."
The doctor shrugged his shoulders furiously; then he said,--
"To be sure, it would be a sacrilege to break the slumbers of these good sisters, these dear sisters, as you say. Ah, my dear mayor! When shall we have laymen for our hospitals? And when will you put good stout nurses in the place of these holy damsels?"
M. Seneschal had too often discussed that subject with the doctor, to open it anew. He kept silent, and that was wise; for Dr. Seignebos sat down, saying,--
"Well, I must wait till to-morrow."
VI.
"The hospital in Sauveterre," says the guide book, "is, in spite of its limited size, one of the best institutions of the kind in the department. The chapel and the new additions were built at the expense of the Countess de Maupaison, the widow of one of the ministers of Louis Philippe."
But what the guide book does not say is, that the hospital was endowed with three free beds for pregnant women, by Mrs. Seneschal, or that the two wings on both sides of the great entrance-gate have also been built by her liberality. One of these wings, the one on the right, is used by the janitor, a fine-looking old man, who formerly was beadle at the cathedral, and who loves to think of the happy days when he added to the splendor of the church by his magnificent presence, his red uniform, his gold bandelaire, his halbert, and his gold-headed cane.
This janitor was, on Sunday morning, a little before eight o'clock, smoking his pipe in the yard, when he saw Dr. Seignebos coming in. The doctor was walking faster than usual, his hat over his face, and his hands thrust deep into his pockets, evident signs of a storm. Instead of coming, as he did every day before making the rounds, into the office of the sister-druggist, he went straight up to the room of the lady superior. There, after the usual salutations, he said,--
"They have no doubt brought you, my sister, last night, a patient, an idiot, called Cocoleu?"
"Yes, doctor."
"Where has he been put?"
"The mayor saw him himself put into the little room opposite the linen room."
"And how did he behave?"
"Perfectly well: the sister who kept the watch did not hear him stir."
"Thanks, my sister!" said Dr. Seignebos.
He was already in the door, when the lady superior recalled him.
"Are you going to see the poor man, doctor?" she asked.
"Yes, my sister; why?"
"Because you cannot see him."
"I cannot?"
"No. The commonwealth attorney has sent us orders not to let any one, except the sister who nurses him, come near Cocoleu,--no one, doctor, not even the physician, a case of urgency, of course, excepted."
Dr. Seignebos smiled ironically. Then he said, laughing scornfully,--
"Ah, these are your orders, are they? Well, I tell you that I do not mind them in the least. Who can prevent me from seeing my patient? Tell me that! Let the commonwealth attorney give his orders in his court-house as much as he chooses: that is all right. But in my hospital! My sister, I am going to Cocoleu's room."
"Doctor, you cannot go there. There is a gendarme at the door."
"A gendarme?"
"Yes, he came this morning with the strictest orders."
For a moment the doctor was overcome. Then he suddenly broke out with unusual violence, and a voice that made the windows shake,--
"This is unheard of! This is an abominable abuse of power! I'll have my rights, and justice shall be done me, if I have to go to Thiers!"
Then he rushed out without ceremony, crossed the yard, and disappeared like an arrow, in the direction of the court-house. At that very moment M. Daubigeon was getting up, feeling badly because he had had a bad, sleepless night, thanks to this unfortunate affair of M. de Boiscoran, which troubled him sorely; for he was almost of M. Galpin's opinion. In vain he recalled Jacques's noble character, his well-known uprightness, his keen sense of honor, the evidence was so strong, so overwhelming! He wanted to doubt; but experience told him that a man's past is no guarantee for his future. And, besides, like many great criminal lawyers, he thought, what he would never have ventured to say openly, that some great criminals act while they are under the influence of a kind of vertigo, and that this explains the stupidity of certain crimes committed by men of superior intelligence.
Since his return from Boiscoran, he had kept close in his house; and he had just made up his mind not to leave the house that day, when some one rang his bell furiously. A moment later Dr. Seignebos fell into the room like a bombshell.
"I know what brings you, doctor," said M. Daubigeon. "You come about that order I have given concerning Cocoleu."
"Yes, indeed, sir! That order is an insult."
"I have been asked to give it as a matter of necessity, by M. Galpin."
"And why did you not refuse? You alone are responsible for it in my eyes. You are commonwealth attorney, consequently the head of the bar, and superior to M. Galpin."
M. Daubigeon shook his head and said,--
"There you are mistaken, doctor. The magistrate in such a case is independent of myself and of the court. He is not even bound to obey the attorney-general, who can make suggestions to him, but cannot give him orders. M. Galpin, in his capacity as examining magistrate, has his independent jurisdiction, and is armed with almost unlimited power. No one in the world can say so well as an examining magistrate what the poet calls,--
"'Such is my will, such are my orders, and my will is sufficient.'
"'Hoc volo, hoc jubeo, sit pro ratione voluntas.'"
For once Dr. Seignebos seemed to be convinced by M. Daubigeon's words. He said,--
"Then, M. Galpin has even the right to deprive a sick man of his physician's assistance."
"If he assumes the responsibility, yes. But he does not mean to go so far. He was, on the contrary, about to ask you, although it is Sunday, to come and be present at a second examination of Cocoleu. I am surprised that you have not received his note, and that you did not meet him at the hospital."
"Well, I am going at once."
And he went back hurriedly, and was glad he had done so; for at the door of the hospital he came face to face against M. Galpin, who was just coming in, accompanied by his faithful clerk, Mechinet.
"You came just in time, doctor," began the magistrate, with his usual solemnity.
But, short and rapid as the doctor's walk had been, it had given him time to reflect, and to grow cool. Instead of breaking out into recriminations, he replied in a tone of mock politeness,--
"Yes, I know. It is that poor devil to whom you have given a gendarme for a nurse. Let us go up: I am at your service."
The room in which Cocoleu had been put was large, whitewashed, and empty, except that a bed, a table and two chairs, stood about. The bed was no doubt a good one; but the idiot had taken off the mattress and the blankets, and lain down in his clothes on the straw bed. Thus the magistrate and the physician found him as they entered. He rose at their appearance; but, when he saw the gendarme, he uttered a cry, and tried to hide under the bed. M. Galpin ordered the gendarme to pull him out again. Then he walked up to him, and said,--
"Don't be afraid, Cocoleu. We want to do you no harm; only you must answer our questions. Do you recollect what happened the other night at Valpinson?"
Cocoleu laughed,--the laugh of an idiot,--but he made no reply. And then, for a whole hour, begging, threatening, and promising by turns, the magistrate tried in vain to obtain one word from him. Not even the name of the Countess Claudieuse had the slightest effect. At last, utterly out of patience, he said,--
"Let us go. The wretch is worse than a brute."
"Was he any better," asked the doctor, "when he denounced M. de Boiscoran?"
But the magistrate pretended not to hear; and, when they were about to leave the room, he said to the doctor,--
"You know that I expect your report, doctor?"
"In forty-eight hours I shall have the honor to hand it to you," replied the latter.
But as he went off, he said half aloud,--
"And that report is going to give you some trouble, my good man."
The report was ready then, and his reason for not giving it in, was that he thought, the longer he could delay it, the more chance he would probably have to defeat the plan of the prosecution.
"As I mean to keep it two days longer," he thought on his way home, "why should I not show it to this Paris lawyer who has come down with the marchioness? Nothing can prevent me, as far as I see, since that poor Galpin, in his utter confusion, has forgotten to put me under oath."
But he paused. According to the laws of medical jurisprudence, had he the right, or not, to communicate a paper belonging to the case to the counsel of the accused? This question troubled him; for, although he boasted that he did not believe in God, he believed firmly in professional duty, and would have allowed himself to be cut in pieces rather than break its laws.
"But I have clearly the right to do so," he growled. "I can only be bound by my oath. The authorities are clear on that subject. I have in my favor the decisions of the Court of Appeals of 27 November, and 27 December, 1828; those of the 13th June, 1835; of the 3d May, 1844; of the 26th June, 1866."
The result of this mediation was, that, as soon as he had breakfasted, he put his report in his pocket, and went by side streets to M. de Chandore's house. The marchioness and the two aunts were still at church, where they had thought it best to show themselves; and there was no one in the sitting-room but Dionysia, the old baron, and M. Folgat. The old gentleman was very much surprised to see the doctor. The latter was his family physician, it is true; but, except in cases of sickness, the two never saw each other, their political opinions were so very different.
"If you see me here," said the physician, still in the door, "it is simply because, upon my honor and my conscience, I believe M. Boiscoran is innocent."
Dionysia would have liked to embrace the doctor for these words of his; and with the greatest eagerness she pushed a large easy-chair towards him, and said in her sweetest voice,--
"Pray sit down, my dear doctor."
"Thanks," he answered bruskly. "I am very much obliged to you." Then turning to M. Folgat, he said, according to his odd notion,--
"I am convinced that M. Boiscoran is the victim of his republican opinions which he has so boldly professed; for, baron, your future son-in-law is a republican."
Grandpapa Chandore did not move. If they had come and told him Jacques had been a member of the Commune, he would not have been any more moved. Dionysia loved Jacques. That was enough for him.
"Well," the doctor went on, "I am a Radical, I, M."--
"Folgat," supplied the young lawyer.
"Yes, M. Folgat, I am a Radical; and it is my duty to defend a man whose political opinions so closely resemble mine. I come, therefore, to show you my medical report, if you can make any use of it in your defence of M. Boiscoran, or suggest to me any ideas."
"Ah!" exclaimed the young man. "That is a very valuable service."
"But let us understand each other," said the physician earnestly. "If I speak of listening to your suggestions, I take it for granted that they are based upon facts. If I had a son, and he was to die on the scaffold I would not use the slightest falsehood to save him."
He had, meanwhile, drawn the report from a pocket in his long coat, and now put in on the table with these words,--
"I shall call for it again to-morrow morning. In the meantime you can think it over. I should like, however, to point out to you the main point, the culminating point, if I may say so."
At all events he was "saying so" with much hesitation, and looking fixedly at Dionysia as if to make her understand that he would like her to leave the room. Seeing that she did not take the hint, he added,--
"A medical and legal discussion would hardly interest the young lady."
"Why, sir, why, should I not be deeply, passionately, interested in any thing that regards the man who is to be my husband?"
"Because ladies are generally very sensational," said the doctor uncivilly, "very sensitive."
"Don't think so, doctor. For Jacques's sake, I promise you I will show you quite masculine energy."
The doctor knew Dionysia well enough to see that she did not mean to go: so he growled,--
"As you like it."
Then, turning again to M. Folgat, he said,--
"You know there were two shots fired at Count Claudieuse. One, which hit him in the side, nearly missed him; the other, which struck his shoulder and his neck, hit well."
"I know," said the advocate.
"The difference in the effect shows that the two shots were fired from different distances, the second much nearer than the first."
"I know, I know!"
"Excuse me. If I refer to these details, it is because they are important. When I was sent for in the middle of the night to come and see Count Claudieuse, I at once set to work extracting the particles of lead that had lodged in his flesh. While I was thus busy, M. Galpin arrived. I expected he would ask me to show him the shot: but no, he did not think of it; he was too full of his own ideas. He thought only of the culprit, of _his_ culprit. I did not recall to him the A B C of his profession: that was none of my business. The physician has to obey the directions of justice, but not to anticipate them."
"Well, then?"
"Then M. Galpin went off to Boiscoran, and I completed my work. I have extracted fifty-seven shot from the count's wound in the side, and a hundred and nine from the wound on the shoulder and the neck; and, when I had done that, do you know what I found out?"
He paused, waiting to see the effect of his words; and, when everybody's attention seemed to him fully roused, he went on,--
"I found out that the shot in the two wounds was not alike."
M. de Chandore and M. Folgat exclaimed at one time,--
"Oh!"
"The shot that was first fired," continued Dr. Seignebos, "and which has touched the side, is the very smallest sized 'dust.' That in the shoulder, on the other hand, is quite large sized, such as I think is used in shooting hares. However, I have some samples."
And with these words, he opened a piece of white paper, in which were ten or twelve pieces of lead, stained with coagulated blood, and showing at once a considerable difference in size. M. Folgat looked puzzled.
"Could there have been two murderers?" he asked half aloud.
"I rather think," said M. de Chandore, "that the murderer had, like many sportsmen, one barrel ready for birds, and another for hares or rabbits."
"At all events, this fact puts all premeditation out of question. A man does not load his gun with small-shot in order to commit murder."
Dr. Seignebos thought he had said enough about it, and was rising to take leave, when M. de Chandore asked him how Count Claudieuse was doing.
"He is not doing well," replied the doctor. "The removal, in spite of all possible precautions, has worn him out completely; for he is here in Sauveterre since yesterday, in a house which M. Seneschal has rented for him provisionally. He has been delirious all night through; and, when I came to see him this morning, I do not think he knew me."
"And the countess?" asked Dionysia.
"The countess, madam, is quite as sick as her husband, and, if she had listened to me, she would have gone to bed, too. But she is a woman of uncommon energy, who derives from her affection for her husband an almost incomprehensible power of resistance. As to Cocoleu," he added, standing already near the door, "an examination of his mental condition might produce results which no one seems to expect now. But we will talk of that hereafter. And now, I must bid you all good-by."
"Well?" asked Dionysia and M. de Chandore, as soon as they had heard the street door close behind Dr. Seignebos.