s red and swollen, in short, in a state of
dejection which enabled the magistrate to compare nature with art,
the really dying man with the stage performance. His walk from the
Conciergerie to the judge's chambers, between two gendarmes, and
preceded by the usher, had put the crowning touch to Lucien's despair.
It is the poet's nature to prefer execution to condemnation.
As he saw this being, so completely bereft of the moral courage which
is the essence of a judge, and which the last prisoner had so strongly
manifested, Monsieur Camusot disdained the easy victory; and this scorn
enabled him to strike a decisive blow, since it left him, on the ground,
that horrible clearness of mind which the marksman feels when he is
firing at a puppet.
"Collect yourself, Monsieur de Rubempre; you are in the presence of a
magistrate who is eager to repair the mischief done involuntarily by
the law when a man is taken into custody on suspicion that has no
foundation. I believe you to be innocent, and you will soon be at
liberty.--Here is the evidence of your innocence; it is a letter kept
for you during your absence by your porter's wife; she has just brought
it here. In the commotion caused by the visitation of justice and the
news of your arrest at Fontainebleau, the woman forgot the letter which
was written by Mademoiselle Esther Gobseck.--Read it!"
Lucien took the letter, read it, and melted into tears. He sobbed, and
could not say a single word. At the end of a quarter of an hour, during
which Lucien with great difficulty recovered his self-command, the clerk
laid before him the copy of the letter and begged him to sign a footnote
certifying that the copy was faithful to the original, and might be
used in its stead "on all occasions in the course of this preliminary
inquiry," giving him the option of comparing the two; but Lucien, of
course, took Coquart's word for its accuracy.
"Monsieur," said the lawyer, with friendly good nature, "it is
nevertheless impossible that I should release you without carrying out
the legal formalities, and asking you some questions.--It is almost as a
witness that I require you to answer. To such a man as you I think it is
almost unnecessary to point out that the oath to tell the whole truth is
not in this case a mere appeal to your conscience, but a necessity for
your own sake, your position having been for a time somewhat ambiguous.
The truth can do you no harm, be it what it may; falsehood w
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