V

"Then, does he not go to mass?" asked Madame de Chavoncourt.

"He goes on Sundays to Saint-Pierre, but to the early service at eight

in the morning. He rises every night between one and two in the

morning, works till eight, has his breakfast, and then goes on

working. He walks in his garden, going round fifty, or perhaps sixty

times; then he goes in, dines, and goes to bed between six and seven."

"How did you learn all that?" Madame de Chavoncourt asked Monsieur de

Soulas.

"In the first place, madame, I live in the Rue Neuve, at the corner of

the Rue du Perron; I look out on the house where this mysterious

personage lodges; then, of course, there are communications between my

tiger and Jerome."

"And you gossip with Babylas?"

"What would you have me do out riding?"

"Well--and how was it that you engaged a stranger for your defence?"

asked the Baroness, thus placing the conversation in the hands of the

Vicar-General.

"The President of the Court played this pleader a trick by appointing

him to defend at the Assizes a half-witted peasant accused of forgery.

But Monsieur Savaron procured the poor man's acquittal by proving his

innocence and showing that he had been a tool in the hands of the real

culprits. Not only did his line of defence succeed, but it led to the

arrest of two of the witnesses, who were proved guilty and condemned.

His speech struck the Court and the jury. One of these, a merchant,

placed a difficult case next day in the hands of Monsieur Savaron, and

he won it. In the position in which we found ourselves, Monsieur

Berryer finding it impossible to come to Besancon, Monsieur de

Garcenault advised him to employ this Monsieur Albert Savaron,

foretelling our success. As soon as I saw him and heard him, I felt

faith in him, and I was not wrong."

"Is he then so extraordinary?" asked Madame de Chavoncourt.

"Certainly, madame," replied the Vicar-General.

"Well, tell us about it," said Madame de Watteville.

"The first time I saw him," said the Abbe de Grancey, "he received me

in his outer room next the ante-room--old Galard's drawing-room--which

he has had painted like old oak, and which I found entirely lined with

law-books, arranged on shelves also painted as old oak. The painting

and the books are the sole decoration of the room, for the furniture

consists of an old writing table of carved wood, six old armchairs

covered with tapestry, window curtains of gray stuff bordered with

green, and a green carpet over the floor. The ante-room stove heats

this library as well. As I waited there I did not picture my advocate

as a young man. But this singular setting is in perfect harmony with

his person; for Monsieur Savaron came out in a black merino dressing-

gown tied with a red cord, red slippers, a red flannel waistcoat, and

a red smoking-cap."

"The devil's colors!" exclaimed Madame de Watteville.

"Yes," said the Abbe; "but a magnificent head. Black hair already

streaked with a little gray, hair like that of Saint Peter and Saint

Paul in pictures, with thick shining curls, hair as stiff as horse-

hair; a round white throat like a woman's; a splendid forehead,

furrowed by the strong median line which great schemes, great

thoughts, deep meditations stamp on a great man's brow; an olive

complexion marbled with red, a square nose, eyes of flame, hollow

cheeks, with two long lines, betraying much suffering, a mouth with a

sardonic smile, and a small chin, narrow, and too short; crow's feet

on his temples; deep-set eyes, moving in their sockets like burning

balls; but, in spite of all these indications of a violently

passionate nature, his manner was calm, deeply resigned, and his voice

of penetrating sweetness, which surprised me in Court by its easy

flow; a true orator's voice, now clear and appealing, sometimes

insinuating, but a voice of thunder when needful, and lending itself

to sarcasm to become incisive.

"Monsieur Albert Savaron is of middle height, neither stout nor thin.

And his hands are those of a prelate.

"The second time I called on him he received me in his bed-room,

adjoining the library, and smiled at my astonishment when I saw there

a wretched chest of drawers, a shabby carpet, a camp-bed, and cotton

window-curtains. He came out of his private room, to which no one is

admitted, as Jerome informed me; the man did not go in, but merely

knocked at the door.

"The third time he was breakfasting in his library on the most frugal

fare; but on this occasion, as he had spent the night studying our

documents, as I had my attorney with me, and as that worthy Monsieur

Girardet is long-winded, I had leisure to study the stranger. He

certainly is no ordinary man. There is more than one secret behind

that face, at once so terrible and so gentle, patient and yet

impatient, broad and yet hollow. I saw, too, that he stooped a little,

like all men who have some heavy burden to bear."

"Why did so eloquent a man leave Paris? For what purpose did he come

to Besancon?" asked pretty Madame de Chavoncourt. "Could no one tell

him how little chance a stranger has of succeeding here? The good

folks of Besancon will make use of him, but they will not allow him to

make use of them. Why, having come, did he make so little effort that

it needed a freak of the President's to bring him forward?"

"After carefully studying that fine head," said the Abbe, looking

keenly at the lady who had interrupted him, in such a way as to

suggest that there was something he would not tell, "and especially

after hearing him this morning reply to one of the bigwigs of the

Paris Bar, I believe that this man, who may be five-and-thirty, will

by and by make a great sensation."

"Why should we discuss him? You have gained your action, and paid

him," said Madame de Watteville, watching her daughter, who, all the

time the Vicar-General had been speaking, seemed to hang on his lips.