press a smile, the
doctor's manner was so very extraordinary.

"But there is one of these apes," he went on, "who, in length of ears
and thickness of skin, surpasses all the others. Well, he is the very
one whom the court has chosen and associated with me."

Upon this subject it was desirable to put a check upon the doctor. M. de
Chandore therefore interrupted him, saying,--

"In fine"--

"In fine, my learned brother is fully persuaded that his mission as a
physician employed by a court of justice is to say 'Amen' to all the
stories of the prosecution. 'Cocoleu is an idiot,' says M. Galpin
peremptorily. 'He is an idiot, or ought to be one,' reechoes my learned
brother. 'He spoke on the occasion of the crime by an inspiration from
on high,' the magistrate goes on to say. 'Evidently,' adds the brother,
'there was an inspiration from on high.' For this is the conclusion at
which my learned brother arrives in his report: 'Cocoleu is an idiot who
had been providentially inspired by a flash of reason.' He does not say
it in these words; but it amounts to the same thing."

He had taken off his spectacles, and was wiping them industriously.

"But what do you think, doctor?" asked M. Folgat.

Dr. Seignebos solemnly put on again his spectacles, and replied
coldly,--

"My opinion, which I have fully developed in my report, is, that Cocoleu
is not idiotic at all."

M. Chandore started: the proposition seemed to him monstrous. He
knew Cocoleu very well; he had seen him wander through the streets of
Sauveterre during the eighteen months which the poor creature had spent
under the doctor's treatment.

"What! Cocoleu not idiotic?" he repeated.

"No!" Dr. Seignebos declared peremptorily; "and you have only to look at
him to be convinced. Has he a large flat face, disproportionate mouth,
a yellow, tanned complexion, thick lips, defective teeth, and squinting
eyes? Does his deformed head sway from side to side, being too heavy to
be supported by his neck? Is his body deformed, and his spine crooked?
Do you find that his stomach is big and pendent, that his hands drop
upon his thighs, that his legs are awkward, and the joints unusually
large? These are the symptoms of idiocy, gentleman, and you do not find
them in Cocoleu. I, for my part, see in him a scamp, who has an iron
constitution, who uses his hands very cleverly, climbs trees like a
monkey, and leaps ditches ten feet wide. To be sure, I do not pretend
that his intelle