Magloire espoused was at once considered a good cause. They said of him,--"He may be mistaken; but whatever he says he believes." He could not but have a powerful influence, therefore, not on judges who came into court with well-established opinions, but with jurymen who are under the influence of the moment, and may be carried off by the eloquence of a speech. It is true, M. Magloire did not possess that burning eloquence which thrills a crowd, but M. Folgat had it, and in an uncommon degree. M. Galpin had made inquiries; and one of his Paris friends had written to him,--"Mistrust Folgat. He is a far more dangerous logician than Lachant, and possesses the same skill in troubling the consciences of jurymen, in moving them, drawing tears from them, and forcing them into an acquittal. Mind, especially, any incidents that may happen during the trial; for he has always some kind of surprise in reserve.""These are my adversaries," thought M. Galpin. "What surprise, Iwonder, is there in store for me? Have they really given up all idea of using Cocoleu?"He had no reason for mistrusting his agent; and yet his apprehensions became so serious, that he went out of his way to look in at the hospital. The lady superior received him, as a matter of course, with all the signs of profound respect; and, when he inquired about Cocoleu, she added,--"Would you like to see him?"
"I confess I should be very glad to do so.""Come with me, then."
She took him into the garden, and there asked a gardener,--"Where is the idiot?"
The man put his spade into the ground; and, with that affected reverence which characterizes all persons employed in a convent, he answered,--"The idiot is down there in the middle avenue, mother, in his usual place, you know, which nothing will induce him to leave."M. Galpin and the lady superior found him there. They had taken off the rags which he wore when he was admitted, and put him into the hospital-dress, which was a large gray coat and a cotton cap. He did not look any more intelligent for that; but he was less repulsive. He was seated on the ground, playing with the gravel.
"Well, my boy," asked M. Galpin, "how do you like this?"He raised his inane face, and fixed his dull eye on the lady superior;but he made no reply.
"Would you like to go back to Valpinson?" asked the lawyer again. He shuddered, but did not open his lips.
"Look here," said M. Galpin, "answer me, and I'll give you a ten-cent piece."No: Cocoleu was at his play again.
"That is the way he is always," declared the lady superior. "Since he is here, no one has ever gotten a word out of him. Promises, threats, nothing has any effect. One day I thought I would try an experiment;and, instead of letting him have his breakfast, I said to him, 'You shall have nothing to eat till you say, "I am hungry." ' At the end of twenty-four hours I had to let him have his pittance; for he would have starved himself sooner than utter a word.""What does Dr. Seignebos think of him?"
"The doctor does not want to hear his name mentioned," replied the lady superior.
And, raising her eyes to heaven, she added,--"And that is a clear proof, that, but for the direct intervention of Providence, the poor creature would never have denounced the crime which he had witnessed."Immediately, however, she returned to earthly things, and asked,--"But will you not relieve us soon of this poor idiot, who is a heavy charge on our hospital? Why not send him back to his village, where he found his support before? We have quite a number of sick and poor, and very little room.""We must wait, sister, till M. de Boiscoran's trial is finished,"replied the magistrate.
The lady superior looked resigned, and said,--"That is what the mayor told me, and it is very provoking, I must say:
however, they have allowed me to turn him out of the room which they had given him at first. I have sent him to the Insane Ward. That is the name we give to a few little rooms, enclosed by a wall, where we keep the poor insane, who are sent to us provisionally."Here she was interrupted by the janitor of the hospital, who came up, bowing.
"What do you want?" she asked.
Vaudevin, the janitor, handed her a note.
"A man brought by a gendarme," he replied. "Immediately to be admitted."The lady superior read the note, signed by Dr. Seignebos.
"Epileptic," she said, "and somewhat idiotic: as if we wanted any more! And a stranger into the bargain! Really Dr. Seignebos is too yielding. Why does he not send all these people to their own parish to be taken care of?"And, with a very elastic step for her age, she went to the parlor, followed by M. Galpin and the janitor. They had put the new patient in there, and, sunk upon a bench, he looked the picture of utter idiocy.
After having looked at him for a minute, she said,--"Put him in the Insane Ward: he can keep Cocoleu company. And let the sister know at the drug-room. But no, I will go myself. You will excuse me, sir."And then she left the room. M. Galpin was much comforted.
"There is no danger here," he said to himself. "And if M. Folgat counts upon any incident during the trial, Cocoleu, at all events, will not furnish it to him."
