Part 2 Chapter 40

TranquillityIt is because I was foolish then that I am now wise. O philosopherwho see nothing save in a flash, how short is your vision! Youreye is not made to follow the underground working of thepassions.

FRAU VON GOETHEThis conversation was interrupted by a judicial examination, followedby a conference with the lawyer retained for the defence. These were theonly absolutely disagreeable moments in a heedless existence full oftender fantasies.

'It was murder, and premeditated murder,' said Julien to magistrateand counsel alike. 'I am sorry, gentlemen,' he added, smiling; 'but this reduces your task to a very small matter.

'After all,' thought Julien, when he had succeeded in ridding himself ofthese two persons, 'I must be brave, and braver, evidently, than thesetwo men. They regard as the worst of evils, as the king of terrors, this duelto a fatal issue, of which I shall begin to think seriously only upon theday itself.

'That is because I have known a greater evil,' Julien continued, philosophising to himself. 'I suffered far more keenly on my first journey toStrasbourg, when I thought that I had been abandoned by Mathilde …And to think that I longed with such passion for this perfect intimacywhich today leaves me so unmoved! Indeed, I am happier by myselfthan when that lovely girl shares my solitude … '

The lawyer, a man of rules and formalities, thought him mad, and supposed, with the rest of the public, that it was jealousy that had put thepistol in his hand. One day, he ventured to suggest to Julien that this allegation, whether true or false, would be an excellent line of defence. Butthe prisoner became in a flash passionate and incisive.

'On your life, Sir,' cried Julien beside himself with rage, 'bear in mindnever again to utter that abominable falsehood.' The prudent advocatewas afraid for a moment of being murdered himself.

He prepared his defence, because the decisive moment was rapidlyapproaching. Besancon and the whole Department could talk of nothingbut this cause celebre. Julien was in ignorance of this, he had begged thatno one should ever speak to him of such matters.

That very day, Fouque and Mathilde having sought to inform him ofcertain public rumours, which seemed to them to furnish grounds forhope, Julien had cut them short at the first word.

'Leave me to enjoy my ideal life. Your petty bickerings, your details ofreal life, all more or less irritating to me, would bring me down fromheaven. One dies as best one can; as for me, I wish to think of death onlyin my own way. What do I care for other people? My relations with otherpeople are soon to be cut short. For pity's sake, do not speak to me ofthem again: it is quite enough to have to see the magistrate and mycounsel.

'Indeed,' he said to himself, 'it appears to be my destiny to die in adream. An obscure creature, like myself, sure of being forgotten within afortnight, would indeed be foolish, one must admit, were he to play apart …'It is strange, all the same, that I have learned the art of enjoying lifeonly now that I see its term draw so near.'

He spent these last days in pacing the narrow terrace on the roof of hisdungeon, smoking some excellent cigars for which Mathilde had sent acourier to Holland, and with no suspicion that his appearance was dailyawaited by all the telescopes in the town. His thoughts were at Vergy.

Never did he speak of Madame de Renal to Fouque, but on two or threeoccasions this friend told him that she was recovering rapidly, and thesewords echoed in his heart.

While Julien's spirit was almost always completely lost in the world ofideas, Mathilde, occupied with realities, as becomes an aristocratic heart,had contrived to increase the intimacy of the direct correspondencebetween Madame de Fervaques and M. de Frilair to such a point thatalready the mighty word Bishopric had been uttered.

The venerable prelate, in whose hands was the list of benefices, addedas a postscript to one of his niece's letters: 'That poor Sorel is nothingworse than a fool, I hope that he will be restored to us.'

At the sight of these lines, M. de Frilair was almost out of his mind. Hehad no doubt of his ability to save Julien.

'But for that Jacobinical law which prescribes the registration of anendless list of jurors, and has no other real object than to take away allinfluence from well-born people,' he said to Mathilde, on the eve of thedrawing by lot of the thirty-six jurors for the assize, 'I could haveanswered for the verdict. Did I not secure the acquittal of the cureN—— ?'

It was with pleasure that, on the following day, among the namesdrawn from the urn, M. de Frilair found those of five members of theCongregation of Besancon, and, among those who were strangers to thetown, the names of MM. Valenod, de Moirod and de Cholin. 'I can answer at once for these eight jurors,' he told Mathilde. 'The first five aremachines. Valenod is my agent, Moirod owes all he has to me, Cholin isan imbecile, who is afraid of everything.'

The newspaper published throughout the Department the names ofthe jurors, and Madame de Renal, to the inexpressible terror of her husband, decided to come to Besancon. All that M. de Renal could obtainfrom her was that she would not leave her bed, so that she might not beexposed to the nuisance of being summoned to give evidence. 'You donot understand my position,' said the former Mayor of Verrieres. 'I amnow a Liberal of the defection, as they call it; no doubt but that rascalValenod and M. de Frilair will easily persuade the Attorney General andthe Judges to anything that can be unpleasant for me.'

Madame de Renal yielded without protest to her husband's orders, '.f Iwere to appear at the Assize Court,' she told herself, 'I should seem to bedemanding vengeance.'

Notwithstanding all the promises of prudence made to her spiritualdirector and to her husband, no sooner had she arrived in Besancon thanshe wrote with her own hand to each of the thirty-six jurors:

'I shall not appear in Court upon the day of the trial, Sir, because mypresence might prejudice M. Sorel's case. I desire but one thing in theworld, and that passionately, namely his acquittal. Be assured of this, theterrible thought that on my account an innocent man has been sent to hisdeath would poison the remainder of my life, and would doubtlessshorten it. How could you sentence him to death, while I still live? No,beyond question, society has not the right to take life, especially fromsuch a man as Julien Sorel. Everyone at Verrieres has seen him in moments of distraction. This poor young man has powerful enemies; but, even among his enemies (and how many they are!) who is there that hasany doubt of his admirable talents and his profound learning? It is not anordinary person that you are about to judge, Sir. For nearly eighteenmonths we have all known him to be pious, wise, studious; but, two orthree times in the year, he was seized by fits of melancholy whichbordered on insanity. The whole town of Verrieres, all our neighbours atVergy where we go in the fine weather, all my family, the Sub-Prefecthimself, will bear testimony to his exemplary piety; he knows by heartthe whole of the Holy Bible. Would an unbeliever have applied himselffor years on end to learning the Holy Scriptures? My sons will have thehonour to present this letter to you: they are children. Deign to questionthem, Sir, they will furnish you with all the details relative to this pooryoung man that may still be necessary to convince you of the barbarity ofcondemning him. Far from avenging me, you would be sentencing me todeath.

'What is there that his enemies can advance in rebuttal of the followingfact? The injury that ensued from one of those moments of insanitywhich my children themselves used to remark in their tutor was so farfrom dangerous that within less than two months, it has allowed me topost from Verrieres to Besancon. If I learn, Sir, that you have even theslightest hesitation in saving from the barbarity of our laws a personwho is so little guilty, I shall leave my bed, to which I am confined solelyby my husband's orders, and shall come to throw myself at your feet.

'Declare, Sir, that the premeditation is not proven, and you will nothave to reproach yourself with the blood of an innocent man,' etc., etc.