k, no, I cannot think her son guilty."

"No! what, you too?"

Old Tabaret put so much warmth and vivacity into this exclamation, that
Noel looked at him with astonishment. He felt his face grow red, and he
hastened to explain himself. "I said, 'you too,'" he continued, "because
I, thanks perhaps to my inexperience, am persuaded also of this young
man's innocence. I cannot in the least imagine a man of his rank
meditating and accomplishing so cowardly a crime. I have spoken with
many persons on this matter which has made so much noise; and everybody
is of my opinion. He has public opinion in his favor; that is already
something."

Seated near the bed, sufficiently far from the lamp to be in the shade,
the nun hastily knitted stockings destined for the poor. It was a purely
mechanical work, during which she usually prayed. But, since old Tabaret
entered the room, she forgot her everlasting prayers whilst listening
to the conversation. What did it all mean? Who could this woman be? And
this young man who was not her son, and who yet called her mother,
and at the same time spoke of a true son accused of being an assassin?
Before this she had overheard mysterious remarks pass between Noel and
the doctor. Into what strange house had she entered? She was a little
afraid; and her conscience was sorely troubled. Was she not sinning? She
resolved to tell all to the priest, when he returned.

"No," said Noel, "no, M. Tabaret; Albert has not public opinion for him.
We are sharper than that in France, as you know. When a poor devil is
arrested, entirely innocent, perhaps, of the crime charged against him,
we are always ready to throw stones at him. We keep all our pity for
him, who, without doubt guilty, appears before the court of assize. As
long as the justice hesitates, we side with the prosecution against the
prisoner. The moment it is proved that the man is a villain, all our
sympathies are in his favour. That is public opinion. You understand,
however, that it affects me but little. I despise it to such an extent,
that if, as I dare still hope, Albert is not released, I will defend
him. Yes, I have told the Count de Commarin, my father, as much. I will
be his counsel, and I will save him."

Gladly would the old man have thrown himself on Noel's neck. He longed
to say to him: "We will save him together." But he restrained himself.
Would not the advocate despise him, if he told him his secret! He
resolved, however, to revea