He drew near to many groups and listened to what they were saying.
The docket of the session was very heavy; the president had appointed for the same day two short and simple cases.
They had begun with the infanticide, and now they had reached the convict, the old offender, the “return horse.”
This man had stolen apples, but that did not appear to be entirely proved; what had been proved was, that he had already been in the galleys at Toulon.
It was that which lent a bad aspect to his case.
However, the man’s examination and the depositions of the witnesses had been completed, but the lawyer’s plea, and the speech of the public prosecutor were still to come; it could not be finished before midnight.
The man would probably be condemned; the attorney-general was very clever, and never missed his culprits; he was a brilliant fellow who wrote verses.
An usher stood at the door communicating with the hall of the Assizes.
He inquired of this usher:—
“Will the door be opened soon, sir?”
“It will not be opened at all,” replied the usher.
“What!
It will not be opened when the hearing is resumed?
Is not the hearing suspended?”
“The hearing has just been begun again,” replied the usher, “but the door will not be opened again.”
“Why?”
“Because the hall is full.”
“What!
There is not room for one more?”
“Not another one.
The door is closed. No one can enter now.”
The usher added after a pause:
“There are, to tell the truth, two or three extra places behind Monsieur le President, but Monsieur le President only admits public functionaries to them.”
So saying, the usher turned his back.
He retired with bowed head, traversed the antechamber, and slowly descended the stairs, as though hesitating at every step.
It is probable that he was holding counsel with himself.
The violent conflict which had been going on within him since the preceding evening was not yet ended; and every moment he encountered some new phase of it.
On reaching the landing-place, he leaned his back against the balusters and folded his arms.
All at once he opened his coat, drew out his pocket-book, took from it a pencil, tore out a leaf, and upon that leaf he wrote rapidly, by the light of the street lantern, this line: M. Madeleine, Mayor of M. sur M.; then he ascended the stairs once more with great strides, made his way through the crowd, walked straight up to the usher, handed him the paper, and said in an authoritative manner:—
“Take this to Monsieur le President.”
The usher took the paper, cast a glance upon it, and obeyed.
CHAPTER VIII—AN ENTRANCE BY FAVOR
Although he did not suspect the fact, the mayor of M. sur M. enjoyed a sort of celebrity.
For the space of seven years his reputation for virtue had filled the whole of Bas Boulonnais; it had eventually passed the confines of a small district and had been spread abroad through two or three neighboring departments.
Besides the service which he had rendered to the chief town by resuscitating the black jet industry, there was not one out of the hundred and forty communes of the arrondissement of M. sur M. which was not indebted to him for some benefit.
He had even at need contrived to aid and multiply the industries of other arrondissements.
It was thus that he had, when occasion offered, supported with his credit and his funds the linen factory at Boulogne, the flax-spinning industry at Frevent, and the hydraulic manufacture of cloth at Boubers-sur-Canche.
Everywhere the name of M. Madeleine was pronounced with veneration.
Arras and Douai envied the happy little town of M. sur M. its mayor.
The Councillor of the Royal Court of Douai, who was presiding over this session of the Assizes at Arras, was acquainted, in common with the rest of the world, with this name which was so profoundly and universally honored.
When the usher, discreetly opening the door which connected the council-chamber with the court-room, bent over the back of the President’s armchair and handed him the paper on which was inscribed the line which we have just perused, adding:
“The gentleman desires to be present at the trial,” the President, with a quick and deferential movement, seized a pen and wrote a few words at the bottom of the paper and returned it to the usher, saying,
“Admit him.”
The unhappy man whose history we are relating had remained near the door of the hall, in the same place and the same attitude in which the usher had left him.
In the midst of his reverie he heard some one saying to him,
“Will Monsieur do me the honor to follow me?”
It was the same usher who had turned his back upon him but a moment previously, and who was now bowing to the earth before him.
At the same time, the usher handed him the paper.
He unfolded it, and as he chanced to be near the light, he could read it.
“The President of the Court of Assizes presents his respects to M. Madeleine.”