God knows what he will say about it to madame de Renal."
This idea effaced all others.
Shortly afterwards Julien was brought back to reality by the public's manifestation of applause.
The advocate had just finished his speech.
Julien remembered that it was good form to shake hands with him.
The time had passed rapidly.
They brought in refreshments for the advocate and the prisoner.
It was only then that Julien was struck by the fact that none of the women had left the audience to go and get dinner.
"Upon my word, I am dying of hunger," said the advocate.
"And you?"
"I, too," answered Julien.
"See, there's madame, the prefect's wife, who is also getting her dinner," said the advocate, as he pointed out the little balcony.
"Keep up your courage; everything is going all right."
The court sat again.
Midnight struck as the president was summing up.
The president was obliged to pause in his remarks. Amid the silence and the anxiety of all present, the reverberation of the clock filled the hall.
"So my last day is now beginning," thought Julien. He soon felt inflamed by the idea of his duty.
Up to the present he had controlled his emotion and had kept his resolution not to speak.
When the president of the assizes asked him if he had anything to add, he got up.
He saw in front of him the eyes of madame Derville, which seemed very brilliant in the artificial light.
"Can she by any chance be crying?" he thought.
"Gentlemen of the jury!
"I am induced to speak by my fear of that contempt which I thought, at the very moment of my death, I should be able to defy.
Gentlemen, I have not the honour of belonging to your class. You behold in me a peasant who has rebelled against the meanness of his fortune.
"I do not ask you for any pardon," continued Julien, with a firmer note in his voice.
"I am under no illusions. Death awaits me; it will be just.
I have brought myself to make an attempt on the life of the woman who is most worthy of all reverence and all respect.
Madame de Renal was a mother to me.
My crime was atrocious, and it was premeditated.
Consequently, I have deserved death, gentlemen of the jury.
But even if I were not so guilty, I see among you men who, without a thought for any pity that may be due to my youth, would like to use me as a means for punishing and discouraging for ever that class of young man who, though born in an inferior class, and to some extent oppressed by poverty, have none the less been fortunate enough to obtain a good education, and bold enough to mix with what the pride of the rich calls Society.
"That is my crime, gentlemen, and it will be punished with even more severity, inasmuch as, in fact, I am very far from being judged by my peers.
I do not see on the jury benches any peasant who has made money, but only indignant bourgeois...."
Julien talked in this strain for twenty minutes. He said everything he had on his mind.
The advocate-general, who aspired to the favours of the aristocracy, writhed in his seat. But in spite of the somewhat abstract turn which Julien had given to his speech, all the women burst out into tears.
Even madame Derville put her handkerchief to her eyes.
Before finishing, Julien alluded again to the fact of his premeditation, to his repentance, and to the respect and unbounded filial admiration which, in happier days, he had entertained for madame de Renal....
Madame Derville gave a cry and fainted.
One o'clock was striking when the jury retired to their room.
None of the women had left their places; several men had tears in their eyes.
The conversations were at first very animated, but, as there was a delay in the verdict of the jury, their general fatigue gradually began to invest the gathering with an atmosphere of calm.
It was a solemn moment; the lights grew less brilliant.
Julien, who was very tired, heard people around him debating the question of whether this delay was a good or a bad omen.
He was pleased to see that all the wishes were for him. The jury did not come back, and yet not a woman left the court.
When two o'clock had struck, a great movement was heard.
The little door of the jury room opened.
M. the baron de Valenod advanced with a slow and melodramatic step. He was followed by all the jurors.
He coughed, and then declared on his soul and conscience that the jury's unanimous verdict was that Julien Sorel was guilty of murder, and of murder with premeditation.
This verdict involved the death penalty, which was pronounced a moment afterwards.
Julien looked at his watch, and remembered M. de Lavalette. It was a quarter past two.