M. Segmuller's appearance corresponded
perfectly with the description given by the doorkeeper. His plump face
wore an air of frankness and benevolence, and his blue eyes had a most
pleasant expression. Nevertheless, Lecoq distrusted these appearances,
and in so doing he was right.
Born near Strasbourg, M. Segmuller possessed that candid physiognomy
common to most of the natives of blonde Alsace--a deceitful mask, which,
behind seeming simplicity, not unfrequently conceals a Gascon cunning,
rendered all the more dangerous since it is allied with extreme caution.
He had a wonderfully alert, penetrating mind; but his system--every
magistrate has his own--was mainly good-humor. Unlike most of his
colleagues, who were as stiff and cutting in manner as the sword which
the statue of Justice usually holds in her hand, he made simplicity and
kindness of demeanor his leading trait, though, of course, without ever
losing sight of his magisterial duties.
Still, the tone of his voice was so paternal, and the subtle purport
of his questions so veiled by his seeming frankness, that most of those
whom he examined forgot the necessity of protecting themselves, and
unawares confessed their guilt. Thus, it frequently happened that while
some unsuspecting culprit was complacently congratulating himself upon
getting the best of the judge, the poor wretch was really being turned
inside out like a glove.
By the side of such a man as M. Segmuller a grave and slender clerk
would have excited distrust; so he had chosen one who was a caricature
of himself.
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