Scenes from a Courtesan's Life [188]
Countess: "I do not want to witness the scene between you and Camusot."
"What is this examination business?" said Leontine very blandly to Camusot, who stood downcast in the presence of the wife of one of the most important personages in the realm.
"Madame," said Camusot, "a clerk writes down all the magistrate's questions and the prisoner's replies. This document is signed by the clerk, by the judge, and by the prisoner. This evidence is the raw material of the subsequent proceedings; on it the accused are committed for trial, and remanded to appear before the Criminal Court."
"Well, then," said she, "if the evidence were suppressed----?"
"Oh, madame, that is a crime which no magistrate could possibly commit --a crime against society."
"It is a far worse crime against me to have ever allowed it to be recorded; still, at this moment it is the only evidence against Lucien. Come, read me the minutes of his examination that I may see if there is still a way of salvation for us all, monsieur. I do not speak for myself alone--I should quite calmly kill myself--but Monsieur de Serizy's happiness is also at stake."
"Pray, madame, do not suppose that I have forgotten the respect due you," said Camusot. "If Monsieur Popinot, for instance, had undertaken this case, you would have had worse luck than you have found with me; for he would not have come to consult Monsieur de Granville; no one would have heard anything about it. I tell you, madame, everything has been seized in Monsieur Lucien's lodging, even your letters----"
"What! my letters!"
"Here they are, madame, in a sealed packet."
The Countess in her agitation rang as if she had been at home, and the office-boy came in.
"A light," said she.
The boy lighted a taper and placed it on the chimney-piece, while the Countess looked through the letters, counted them, crushed them in her hand, and flung them on the hearth. In a few minutes she set the whole mass in a blaze, twisting up the last note to serve as a torch.
Camusot stood, looking rather foolish as he watched the papers burn, holding the legal documents in his hand. The Countess, who seemed absorbed in the work of destroying the proofs of her passion, studied him out of the corner of her eye. She took her time, she calculated her distance; with the spring of a cat she seized the two documents and threw them on the flames. But Camusot saved them; the Countess rushed on him and snatched back the burning papers. A struggle ensued, Camusot calling out: "Madame, but madame! This is contempt--madame!"
A man hurried into the room, and the Countess could not repress a scream as she beheld the Comte de Serizy, followed by Monsieur de Granville and the Comte de Bauvan. Leontine, however, determined to save Lucien at any cost, would not let go of the terrible stamped documents, which she clutched with the tenacity of a vise, though the flame had already burnt her delicate skin like a moxa.
At last Camusot, whose fingers also were smarting from the fire, seemed to be ashamed of the position; he let the papers go; there was nothing left of them but the portions so tightly held by the antagonists that the flame could not touch them. The whole scene had taken less time than is needed to read this account of it.
"What discussion can have arisen between you and Madame de Serizy?" the husband asked of Camusot.
Before the lawyer could reply, the Countess held the fragments in the candle and threw them on the remains of her letters, which were not entirely consumed.
"I shall be compelled," said Camusot, "to lay a complaint against Madame la Comtesse----"
"Heh! What has she done?" asked the public prosecutor, looking alternately at the lady and the magistrate.
"I have burned the record of the examinations," said the lady of fashion with a laugh, so pleased at her high-handed conduct that she did not yet feel the pain of the burns, "If that is a crime--well, monsieur must get his odious scrawl written out again."
"Very true," said Camusot, trying to recover his dignity.
"Well, well,
"What is this examination business?" said Leontine very blandly to Camusot, who stood downcast in the presence of the wife of one of the most important personages in the realm.
"Madame," said Camusot, "a clerk writes down all the magistrate's questions and the prisoner's replies. This document is signed by the clerk, by the judge, and by the prisoner. This evidence is the raw material of the subsequent proceedings; on it the accused are committed for trial, and remanded to appear before the Criminal Court."
"Well, then," said she, "if the evidence were suppressed----?"
"Oh, madame, that is a crime which no magistrate could possibly commit --a crime against society."
"It is a far worse crime against me to have ever allowed it to be recorded; still, at this moment it is the only evidence against Lucien. Come, read me the minutes of his examination that I may see if there is still a way of salvation for us all, monsieur. I do not speak for myself alone--I should quite calmly kill myself--but Monsieur de Serizy's happiness is also at stake."
"Pray, madame, do not suppose that I have forgotten the respect due you," said Camusot. "If Monsieur Popinot, for instance, had undertaken this case, you would have had worse luck than you have found with me; for he would not have come to consult Monsieur de Granville; no one would have heard anything about it. I tell you, madame, everything has been seized in Monsieur Lucien's lodging, even your letters----"
"What! my letters!"
"Here they are, madame, in a sealed packet."
The Countess in her agitation rang as if she had been at home, and the office-boy came in.
"A light," said she.
The boy lighted a taper and placed it on the chimney-piece, while the Countess looked through the letters, counted them, crushed them in her hand, and flung them on the hearth. In a few minutes she set the whole mass in a blaze, twisting up the last note to serve as a torch.
Camusot stood, looking rather foolish as he watched the papers burn, holding the legal documents in his hand. The Countess, who seemed absorbed in the work of destroying the proofs of her passion, studied him out of the corner of her eye. She took her time, she calculated her distance; with the spring of a cat she seized the two documents and threw them on the flames. But Camusot saved them; the Countess rushed on him and snatched back the burning papers. A struggle ensued, Camusot calling out: "Madame, but madame! This is contempt--madame!"
A man hurried into the room, and the Countess could not repress a scream as she beheld the Comte de Serizy, followed by Monsieur de Granville and the Comte de Bauvan. Leontine, however, determined to save Lucien at any cost, would not let go of the terrible stamped documents, which she clutched with the tenacity of a vise, though the flame had already burnt her delicate skin like a moxa.
At last Camusot, whose fingers also were smarting from the fire, seemed to be ashamed of the position; he let the papers go; there was nothing left of them but the portions so tightly held by the antagonists that the flame could not touch them. The whole scene had taken less time than is needed to read this account of it.
"What discussion can have arisen between you and Madame de Serizy?" the husband asked of Camusot.
Before the lawyer could reply, the Countess held the fragments in the candle and threw them on the remains of her letters, which were not entirely consumed.
"I shall be compelled," said Camusot, "to lay a complaint against Madame la Comtesse----"
"Heh! What has she done?" asked the public prosecutor, looking alternately at the lady and the magistrate.
"I have burned the record of the examinations," said the lady of fashion with a laugh, so pleased at her high-handed conduct that she did not yet feel the pain of the burns, "If that is a crime--well, monsieur must get his odious scrawl written out again."
"Very true," said Camusot, trying to recover his dignity.
"Well, well,