Then he laid down, and had quietly gone to sleep.
"What an iron constitution!" thought M.Daburon, when the prisoner entered his office.
Albert was no longer the despairing man who, the night before, bewildered with the multiplicity of charges, surprised by the rapidity with which they were brought against him, had writhed beneath the magistrate's gaze, and appeared ready to succumb.

Innocent or guilty, he had made up his mind how to act; his face left no doubt of that.

His eyes expressed that cold resolution of a sacrifice freely made, and a certain haughtiness which might be taken for disdain, but which expressed the noble resentment of an injured man.

In him could be seen the self-reliant man, who might be shaken but never overcome by misfortune.
On beholding him, the magistrate understood that he would have to change his mode of attack.

He recognized one of those natures which are provoked to resistance when assailed, and strengthened when menaced.
He therefore gave up his former tactics, and attempted to move him by kindness.