Chapter CXLIII: PARIS, April 22, at night, 1852

Your letter has done me much good. At this moment I am indulging in the nervousness which is sure to follow an impulsive action: impulses, as you know, are usually sincere. It is in such moments as this that base and sordid sentiments hold sway.

I am threatened with a suit for contempt of court and attack against the verdict. The case against me is strong, but everything is possible. _Y siempre lo peor es cierto._ Meanwhile, the _École des Chartes_ is sharpening its claws to tear me to pieces. I shall be obliged, perhaps, to undergo an examination, and to offer an energetic defence. I hope I shall regain my energy when the moment of battle comes. At present I am bewildered and dejected. I thank you for what you tell me. I appreciate it sincerely. Try to keep well, so that, if the case should go against me, you can come to see me in prison.