principle, and I can only tell him here how
dreadfully sorry I am for him, and that everybody pities him as much as
I do."

The judge had expected that Therese would be a witness hostile to the
defendant, whereas anything she was going to say would obviously be much
to his advantage. He cut her short.

"That is enough, mademoiselle. Thank you," and while Therese was going
back to her seat, wiping away the tears that would come to her eyes
despite her bravest efforts to keep her self-control in the presence of
so many strangers, the judge announced that there were no other
witnesses to be heard, and called upon the Public Prosecutor to address
the court.

That personage rose at once and made a harangue that was eloquent
enough, no doubt, but introduced no new features into the case. He
relied upon his law rather than his facts: rapidly recapitulated the
defendant's contradictions and pitifully weak arguments, if arguments
they could be called: claimed that the facts had been proved despite the
defendant's steady refusal to answer questions: and insisted on the
point that the defendant had no right whatever to take the law into his
own hands, and either kill his son or aid and abet in his flight. He
concluded by asking for a verdict of guilty, and a sentence of penal
servitude for life.

To him succeeded counsel for the defendant, whose speech was brevity
itself. He declined to make any appeal _ad misericordiam_, but simply
asked the jury to decide whether the defendant had not acted as any
high-principled father would act when he discovered that his son had
committed a crime during a fit of insanity. He asked only for an
impartial decision on the facts, from men of high principle, and he sat
down conscious of having focussed the issue on the proper point and
secured the sympathy of the public.

The judges withdrew to their room, the jury retired to consider their
verdict, and Etienne Rambert was removed between two warders. Juve had
not stirred during the whole trial, or displayed the least sign of
approval or disapproval at any of the questions and answers exchanged.
He sat now unobtrusively listening to the conversation that passed near
him, relative to the issue of the case.

President Bonnet opined that Etienne Rambert had blundered in refusing
to put up any defence: he had shown contempt of court, which was always
unwise, and the court would show him no mercy. Dollon was of another
opinion: according to him