"They desire to see you humiliated. That is only too true," answered Mathilde, "but I do not think they are at all cruel.
My presence at Besancon, and the sight of my sufferings have interested all the women; your handsome face will do the rest.
If you say a few words to your judges, the whole audience will be on your side, etc., etc."
At nine o'clock on the following day, when Julien left his prison for the great hall of the Palais de Justice, the gendarmes had much difficulty in driving away the immense crowd that was packed in the courtyard.
Julien had slept well. He was very calm, and experienced no other sentiment except a sense of philosophic pity towards that crowd of jealous creatures who were going to applaud his death sentence, though without cruelty.
He was very surprised when, having been detained in the middle of the crowd more than a quarter of an hour, he was obliged to admit that his presence affected the public with a tender pity.
He did not hear a single unpleasant remark.
"These provincials are less evil than I thought," he said to himself.
As he entered the courtroom, he was struck by the elegance of the architecture.
It was real Gothic, with a number of pretty little columns hewn out of stone with the utmost care.
He thought himself in England.
But his attention was soon engrossed by twelve or fifteen pretty women, who sat exactly opposite the prisoner's seat and filled the three balconies above the judges and the jury.
As he turned round towards the public, he saw that the circular gallery that dominated the amphitheatre was filled with women, the majority were young and seemed very pretty, their eyes were shining and full of interest. The crowd was enormous throughout the rest of the room.
People were knocking against the door, and the janitors could not obtain silence.
When all the eyes that were looking for Julien observed where he was, and saw him occupying the slightly raised place which is reserved for the prisoner, he was greeted by a murmur of astonishment and tender interest.
You would have taken him for under twenty on this day. He was dressed very simply, but with a perfect grace. His hair and his forehead were charming.
Mathilde had insisted on officiating personally at his toilette.
Julien's pallor was extreme.
Scarcely was he seated in this place than he heard people say all over the room,
"Great heavens! how young he is!...
But he's quite a child!...
He is much better than his portrait."
"Prisoner," said the gendarme who was sitting on his right, "do you see those six ladies in that balcony?"
The gendarme pointed out a little gallery that jutted out over the amphitheatre where the jury were placed.
"That's madame, the prefect's wife," continued the gendarme. "Next to her, madame the marquise de M——. She likes you well: I have heard her speak to the judge of first instance.
Next to her is madame Derville."
"Madame Derville!" exclaimed Julien, and a vivid blush spread over his forehead.
"When she leaves here," he thought, "she will write to madame de Renal."
He was ignorant of madame de Renal's arrival at Besancon.
The witnesses were quickly heard.
After the first words of the opening of the prosecution by the advocate-general, two of the ladies in the little balcony just opposite Julien burst into tears.
Julien noticed that madame Derville did not break down at all. He remarked, however, that she was very red.
The advocate-general was indulging in melodrama in bad French over the barbarity of the crime that had been perpetrated.
Julien noticed that madame Derville's neighbours seemed to manifest a keen disapproval.
Several jurors, who were apparently acquainted with the ladies, spoke to them and seemed to reassure them.
"So far as it goes, that is certainly a good omen," thought Julien.
Up to the present, he had felt himself steeped in an unadulterated contempt for all the persons who were present at the trial.
This sentiment of disgust was intensified by the stale eloquence of the advocate-general.
But the coldness of Julien's soul gradually disappeared before the marks of interest of which he was evidently the object.
He was satisfied with the sturdy demeanour of his advocate.
"No phrases," he said to him in a whisper, as he was about to commence his speech.
"All the bombast which our opponent has stolen from Bossuet and lavished upon you," said the advocate, "has done you good."
As a matter of fact, he had scarcely spoken for five minutes before practically all the women had their handkerchiefs in their hands.
The advocate was encouraged, and addressed some extremely strong remarks to the jury.
Julien shuddered. He felt on the point of breaking into tears.
"My God," he thought, "what would my enemies say?"
He was on the point of succumbing to the emotion which was overcoming him, when, luckily for him, he surprised an insolent look from M. the baron de Valenod.
"That rogue's eyes are gleaming," he said to himself
"What a triumph for that base soul!
If my crime had only produced this one result, it would be my duty to curse it.