l.

III

The judge of instruction of the tribunal at Corbeil, was M. Antoine
Domini, a remarkable man, since called to higher functions. He was
forty years of age, of a prepossessing person, and endowed with a
very expressive, but too grave physiognomy. In him seemed typified
the somewhat stiff solemnity of the magistracy. Penetrated with the
dignity of his office, he sacrificed his life to it, rejecting the
most simple distractions, and the most innocent pleasures.

He lived alone, seldom showing himself abroad; rarely received his
friends, not wishing, as he said, that the weaknesses of the man
should derogate from the sacred character of the judge. This latter
reason had deterred him from marrying, though he felt the need of a
domestic sphere.

Always and everywhere he was the magistrate--that is, the
representative, even to fanaticism, of what he thought the most
august institution on the earth. Naturally gay, he would
double-lock himself in when he wished to laugh. He was witty; but
if a bright sally escaped him, you may be sure he repented of it.
Body and soul he gave to his vocation; and no one could bring more
conscientiousness to the discharge of what he thought to be his
duty. He was also inflexible. It was monstrous, in his eyes, to
discuss an article of the code. The law spoke; it was enough; he
shut his eyes, covered his ears, and obeyed.

From the day when a legal investigation commenced, he did not sleep,
and he employed every means to discover the truth. Yet he was not
regarded as a good judge of instruction; to contend by tricks with
a prisoner was repugnant to him; to lay a snare for a rogue he
thought debasing; in short, he was obstinate--obstinate to
foolishness, sometimes to absurdity; even to denying the existence
of the sun at mid-day.

The mayor and Papa Plantat hastened to meet M. Domini. He bowed
to them gravely, as if he had not known them, and presenting to
them a man of some sixty years who accompanied him:

"Messieurs," said he, "this is Doctor Gendron."

Papa Plantat shook hands with the doctor; the mayor smiled
graciously at him, for Dr. Gendron was well-known in those parts;
he was even celebrated, despite the nearness of Paris. Loving his
art and exercising it with a passionate energy, he yet owed his
renown less to his science than his manners. People said: "He is
an original;" they admired his affectation of independence, of
scepticism,