18
THE AVOMAN OF FIEE.
malignity toward the accused. Was is not enough for the
poor prisoner to be badly defended without the jury being
charged again?
Lucien, however, rose to his feet and uttered one of those
magnificent speeches which are still remembered at Nantes. '
While appearing to fulfill his task as Public Prosecutor, he
nevertheless developed each point which the counsel for the
accused had neglected to touch upon, and pleaded the cause
¦of the unhappy man with extraordinary warmth.
*'l understand perfectly," he said, "what my learned
hrother has just'said. This man, he tells us, has been up to
the date of this crime of irreproachable conduct and honesty.
He might also have added that such a man, at the age of
twenty-five, and after having served with honor under the
flag of his countrv, and won a medal, which he now wears
upon his breast, is hardly likely to become a common thief.
The indictment mav be or may not be correct. We are, how-
ever, in this court-rooni merely to discover the truth, and we
will not separate until we have done so. The accused, then,
is in all probability guiltless of the crime of which he is
accused, and the motives of which it is not difficult to dis-
cover. And are we bound to hold him responsible for a
moment of delirium and intoxication? Yes, intoxication—
for do you believe, gentlemen, that it is only wine that in-
toxicates? Ah! intoxication is much more terrible, let me
tell you, when caused by a long-repressed passion, whicli by
degrees has irritated your nerves, undermined your strength,
subjugated vour reason, silenced your conscience, and made
of you a slave, a brute, and a madman. I can readily imagine
that the accused, without the safeguards of education, religion,
and family, may have been madly in love with this woman of
whom you are at liberty to judge from the very accusation
she has brought against him; for had he robbed liar, she
would have been silent because he loved her. I can see him
imploring her on his knees to become his wife, and in his
vulgar language, which, however, is none the less touching for
its vulgarity, telling her that he loves her and cannot live
without her. She repulses him, and he retires to a corner,
like a dog that has been chatised. But the image of this
woman is so deeply impressed upon his whole nature that he
cannot shake it off. He sees her continually; he sees her
day and night. To you, gentlemen of the jury, this woman
may not be lovely, but to him she is all that is beautiful; it
may be that behind her veil this woman conceals charms
which are calculated to drive a man mad.    Who can tell ?
"He continues to see her, and also to suffer. Again and
again he went back to her and repeated what he had already
told her at least one hundred times. She repulsed him
again, and he talked of killing himself. She did more than
repulse him—she laughed at him in a coquettish sort of way.
Then, dizzv and mad, he snatched her in his arms. Tell me,
gentlemen of the jury, do you wish by your verdict to send
this man to the galle'ys and brand him as a common thief ?
N0—you would not commit such an act of injustice.
"It is in these words, gentlemen of the jury, that the
counsel for the defense should have pleaded the cause of his
client. We, however, as officers of the government, hold
ourselves at liberty to draw our own conclusions. But yours
is the sovereign will, gentlemen of the jury, and you have a
right to forget our speech and remember only that of the
defense."
The accused was acquitted.
When the court adjourned, Lucien was summoned. The
presiding judge congratulated him on having had the courage
to take up a defense which the counsel for the accused had
so inertly abandoned. The jury thanked him for having
placed the case so plainly before them, and several lawyers
came to shake his hand and tell him that he was their superior
in the art of moving a jury.
" Ah !" cried one old lawyer, "you make a great mistake
in not tendering your resignation and joining us! We prefer
to have you for our colleague than for our adversary, and you
would acquire an enormous reputation in a very short time."
" Gentlemen," answered Lucien, modestly, " I thank you
a thousand times for all your kindness. But you* are mis-
taken. I was not made so much to move as to convince a
jury. My present duties are entirely fitted for my especial
talent, which is by no means quick or impulsive. If, as you
are kind enough to say, I have h&d an inspiration of pas-
sionate eloquence, let me assure you that it was purely an
accident.    I shall never know the "like again."
As he entered his private room a card was handed him.
Lucien glanced at it and became very pale, but he gave the
order to show in the gentleman and lady.
It was Mlle. Bérard and her father, who did not wish to
leave the court-house until they had thanked him for the
tickets he had sent them, of which they had made constant
use in the last fortnight.
"Do you know," said Diane, "that I have not missed a
single one of the cases in which you spoke?"
"I can only say, mademoiselle," answered Lucien, coldly,
"that I pity you very sincerely."
" Your pity is entirely thrown away, let me assure you, for
I have been greatly interested and" carried away by your
talent. But 1 must confess, in spite of the success you have
just achieved, I prefer you in the rôle of Prosecutor rather
than the other."
"Then you did not think me impressive in the last?"
"Too much so. I like to see an orator calm and cool. I
like to hear clear, decisive phrases, logic, and truth plainly
expressed. This is the kind of speech I enjoy, and I know
no one who possesses that especial talent so largely as your-
self. The other form of eloquence, that which touches the
heart and brings tears to the eyes, often, I must confess, leaves
me hard and unconvinced."
" In a word, mademoiselle, you prefer coldness to passion?"
"Perhaps," she said, with a sidelong glance.
He, too, looked at her, then he said:
" There are times when a man cannot be cold ; the blood
mounts to his head, the heart beats to suffocation, and------"
"Yes, of course!" she interrupted, eagerly; "and then a
man becomes as impassioned as you were just now, and ap-
pears to be all the more so, as it is contrary to his usual
habit. I understand that as an exception to the general rule,
and as an exception it was perfect. Forgive me my profession
of faith, and believe me your debtor."
She bowed low and moved toward the door. Her father,
however, who had not yet been able to say one word, did not
choose to notice the look she gave him, but, turning to Lucien,
said that he often received friends in the evening and would
be happy if he would join them.
" Many thanks, sir," said Lucien; but that was all. He
neither declined nor refused the invitation. When he was
alone, however, all this superficial calm deserted him.
" Ah!" he murmured, as he paced the room with rapid
steps; "why did she come here? Why did she revive mem-
ories which I have made such earnest efforts to stifle? lean-
not keep up this struggle much longer, I fear, and I shudder
lest I shall in the end be guilty of some appalling act of folly."
He did not profit by the invitation extended by M.
de Bérard. He felt that he must at least make that conces-
sion to Eeason and Conscience. But from this time he had
no longer strength to avoid her whom he loved. Besides,
where was the good, since she came to him if he refused to
go to her. He met her, therefore, almost daily on his way
home from the court house, or on the Quai de la Fosse, or
the Jardin des Plantes, or la Place Graslin, which serve to
the Nantais the same purposes of reunion as the boulevards
do to the Parisians. He saw her at all the official soirées
where he was obliged to go, and at smaller entertainments
given by people whom they had both met at Pouliguen—Mme.
Desvignes and others. After each one of these meetings he
was conscious of the diminution of his powers of resistance.
As yet, however, no confidences had been exchanged; he had
made no avowal. It was in the salon of the Prefect that this
came.
They had been waltzing, and Lucien, after taking Diane
back to her seat, which had been in a small salon, now tem-
porarily deserted, bowed low and turned to leave her. Sud-
denly he stopped, and rushed, rather than walked, back to her,
and snatching her hands in his, said, in a low, hoarse voice:
"I love you!"
She rose from her seat, and without releasing his hands,
looked Lucien full in the face, and in clear, unwavering tones
answered:
"And I love you!"
Several persons came into the room at that moment; they
separated, and did not speak to each other again that night.
Diane had spoken the absolute truth; she did love Lucien,
and this love was of a much more elevated nature than that
felt by Lucien. Although far from being indifferent to the
manly beauty ofthe young man, and to his air of distinction,
she had been still more attracted by his position, by his
talent, and even more by his air of cold reserve. D'Aubier,
however, loved Diane for her beauty, for her strange ways,