Jules; I am so certain of what I assert, that if he says he committed this murder, and that I had a share in it, I consent to pass for the greatest scoundrel that ever walked the earth.—I will acknowledge, as true, whatever he may say; and, I further engage, either to clear my innocence through his means, or to ascend the same scaffold with him.—I do not dread the guillotine, whether its blow descend for this or any other offence; if Court confirms what you have said, be it so—all is over—the veil is raised, and two heads will fall at once."
I quitted him in these dispositions, and went to propose the interview to his comrade: this latter, however, refused, declaring that, after the confession he had made, he had not the courage to encounter Raoul.—"Since I have regularly signed and attested my deposition," said he, "let it be read to him, it will suffice to convince him; besides, he will recognise my writing."
This repugnance, which I was far from expecting, vexed me so much the more, as I have frequently known the thoughts of a man arraigned of crime to change in an instant from one opinion to the opposite extreme. I exerted all my influence to overcome Court's objections, and at length succeeded in deciding him to act as I wished. After a trifling delay, the two friends found themselves in each other's presence: they embraced; and the ingenuity of Court suggested to him a ruse by which to palliate his having involved his coadjutor in his acknowledgment of guilt; and this, without having originated in my advice, materially assisted my plans:—"Friend Raoul cried Court, "I am informed you have followed my example, and made a full confession of our unfortunate crime. It was the very best thing we could either of us do; for, as M. Jules observes, there are too many convincing proofs against us, to make further denial of any avail."
The person to whom these words were addressed stood for an instant as if petrified with astonishment;
