rous constitution, to break the
weakened springs, and produce the hesitancy, the aimless, unfinished
movements, which physiologists know well in men undermined by grief.

Derville, detecting in his client the symptoms of extreme dejection,
said to him:

"Take courage; the end of the business cannot fail to be in your favor.
Only, consider whether you can give me your whole confidence and blindly
accept the result I may think best for your interests."

"Do what you will," said Chabert.

"Yes, but you surrender yourself to me like a man marching to his
death."

"Must I not be left to live without a position, without a name? Is that
endurable?"

"That is not my view of it," said the lawyer. "We will try a friendly
suit, to annul both your death certificate and your marriage, so as to
put you in possession of your rights. You may even, by Comte Ferraud's
intervention, have your name replaced on the army list as general, and
no doubt you will get a pension."

"Well, proceed then," said Chabert. "I put myself entirely in your
hands."

"I will send you a power of attorney to sign," said Derville. "Good-bye.
Keep up your courage. If you want money, rely on me."

Chabert warmly wrung the lawyer's hand, and remained standing with his
back against the wall, not having the energy to follow him excepting
with his eyes. Like all men who know but little of legal matters, he was
frightened by this unforeseen struggle.

During their interview, several times, the figure of a man posted in the
street had come forward from behind one of the gate-pillars, watching
for Derville to depart, and he now accosted the lawyer. He was an old
man, wearing a blue waistcoat and a white-pleated kilt, like a brewer's;
on his head was an otter-skin cap. His face was tanned, hollow-cheeked,
and wrinkled, but ruddy on the cheek-bones by hard work and exposure to
the open air.

"Asking your pardon, sir," said he, taking Derville by the arm, "if I
take the liberty of speaking to you. But I fancied, from the look of
you, that you were a friend of our General's."

"And what then?" replied Derville. "What concern have you with him?--But
who are you?" said the cautious lawyer.

"I am Louis Vergniaud," he replied at once. "I have a few words to say
to you."

"So you are the man who has lodged Comte Chabert as I have found him?"

"Asking your pardon, sir, he has the best room. I would have given him
mine if I had had but one; I could have slept