"Madame," said Monsieur de Soulas, addressing the Baroness, while
waiting till his soup was cool enough to swallow, and affecting to
give a romantic turn to his narrative, "one fine morning the mail
coach dropped at the Hotel National a gentleman from Paris, who, after
seeking apartments, made up his mind in favor of the first floor in
Mademoiselle Galard's house, Rue du Perron. Then the stranger went
straight to the Mairie, and had himself registered as a resident with
all political qualifications. Finally, he had his name entered on the
list of the barristers to the Court, showing his title in due form, and he left his card on all his new colleagues, the Ministerial officials, the Councillors of the Court, and the members of the bench, with the name, 'ALBERT SAVARON.'"
"The name of Savaron is famous," said Mademoiselle de Watteville, who
was strong in heraldic information. "The Savarons of Savarus are one
of the oldest, noblest, and richest families in Belgium."
"He is a Frenchman, and no man's son," replied Amedee de Soulas. "If
he wishes to bear the arms of the Savarons of Savarus, he must add a
bar-sinister. There is no one left of the Brabant family but a
Mademoiselle de Savarus, a rich heiress, and unmarried."
"The bar-sinister is, of course, the badge of a bastard; but the
bastard of a Comte de Savarus is noble," answered Rosalie.
"Enough, that will do, mademoiselle!" said the Baroness.
"You insisted on her learning heraldry," said Monsieur de Watteville, "and she knows it very well."
"Go on, I beg, Monsieur de Soulas."
"You may suppose that in a town where everything is classified, known, pigeon-holed, ticketed, and numbered, as in Besancon, Albert Savaron was received without hesitation by the lawyers of the town. They were satisfied to say, 'Here is a man who does not know his Besancon. Who the devil can have sent him here? What can he hope to do? Sending his card to the Judges instead of calling in person! What a blunder!' And so, three days after, Savaron had ceased to exist. He took as his servant old Monsieur Galard's man—Galard being dead—Jerome, who can cook a little. Albert Savaron was all the more completely forgotten, because no one had seen him or met him anywhere."
"Then, does he not go to mass?" asked Madame de Chavoncourt.
"He goes on Sundays to Saint-Pierre, but to the early service at eight
in the morning. He rises every night between one and two in the
morning, works till eight, has his breakfast, and then goes on
working. He walks in his garden, going round fifty, or perhaps sixty
times; then he goes in, dines, and goes to bed between six and seven."
"How did you learn all that?" Madame de Chavoncourt asked Monsieur de
Soulas.
"In the first place, madame, I live in the Rue Neuve, at the corner of
the Rue du Perron; I look out on the house where this mysterious
personage lodges; then, of course, there are communications between my
tiger and Jerome."
"And you gossip with Babylas?"
"What would you have me do out riding?"
"Well—and how was it that you engaged a stranger for your defence?" asked the Baroness, thus placing the conversation in the hands of the Vicar-General.
"The President of the Court played this pleader a trick by appointing
him to defend at the Assizes a half-witted peasant accused of forgery. But Monsieur Savaron procured the poor man's acquittal by proving his innocence and showing that he had been a tool in the hands of the real culprits. Not only did his line of defence succeed, but it led to the arrest of two of the witnesses, who were proved guilty and condemned. His speech struck the Court and the jury. One of these, a merchant, placed a difficult case next day in the hands of Monsieur Savaron, and he won it. In the position in which we found ourselves, Monsieur Berryer finding it impossible to come to Besancon, Monsieur de Garcenault advised him to employ this Monsieur Albert Savaron, foretelling our success. As soon as I saw him and heard him, I felt faith in him, and I was not wrong."
"Is he then so extraordinary?" asked Madame de Chavoncourt.
"Certainly, madame," replied the Vicar-General.
"Well, tell us about it," said Madame de Watteville.