Further questions extracted what had passed in the remainder of the
interview and in the street. He was asked if he had ever mentioned the
circumstance to any one?
"Until this action was threatened, never."
"And then?"
"To my wife."
"You must speak louder. How did you account for the change in your
circumstances?"
"My family believed I had received a loan from Monsieur de Cadanet."
He declared that he had sent, first, an instalment of five hundred
francs, and, on his marriage, a further sum of two hundred and three
thousand, part of his wife's dowry. On this point he was closely
interrogated by the judge, who professed utter incredulity.
"You drew and sent a cheque?"
"No. I returned the sum in notes by a registered letter."
"And your wife's father consented to paying so large a sum in notes
without making inquiries as to its destination? That is a most
improbable story!"
Leon replied that he had explained to his father-in-law that it was in
order to pay a debt of honour of which he could give no account. Then
came the crucial question.
"And you wish the Court to believe that you returned the money without
receiving the smallest acknowledgment from Monsieur de Cadanet."
"That is the case."
"You persist in such a ridiculous assertion?"
"Yes."
"And mentioned it to no one?"
"To my mother."
"She also was content to have no receipt?"
"No. She was very uneasy."
"How did you quiet her?"
"I am afraid I allowed her to believe I had received one." The prisoner
gave this answer in evident distress, and Maitre Barraud clasped his
chin with his hand. The fact evidently told against the accused.
"You never heard again from Monsieur de Cadanet?"
"I heard no more of him until I received the announcement of his death."
As the examination ended there was a movement round Nathalie. The
Assize Court of the Seine was densely crowded, and the pushing and
squeezing caused by the new arrival would have roused any one less
deeply interested. Nathalie, however, had eyes only for her husband,
and it was not until a square, thick-set figure had forced himself into
a seat by her side that she recognised her father. No greeting but a
nod passed between them, each being too anxious to hear the next
evidence. It was, however, of no great importance, the principal
witnesses being Andre, the concierge, and the doctor, who testified to
M. de Cadanet's clearness of mind throughout his illness.
M. Charles Lemaire was next duly called, sworn, and interrogated by the
Procureur. People noticed that on his appearance M. de Beaudrillart
lifted his head, looked coolly at him, and allowed a smile of
contemptuous scorn to pass across his face. On the other hand, Lemaire
had the appearance of being quite at his ease. He glanced round the
court, bowed to the judge, and turned to the Procureur with an air of
extreme readiness. In answer to the interrogations, he replied with
perfect smoothness. His evidence, in fact, might be considered
irreproachable, saying neither too much nor too little. The six years
which had passed had not improved his appearance--for he had grown much
stouter, and his face was puffy--but they had taught him to conceal his
feelings. He was careful to speak with perfect moderation of the
prisoner. Asked whether at the time of the theft he and M. de
Beaudrillart were on good terms, he said they had little to say to each
other. Further pressed, he allowed that he had seen him lose very
considerable sums at play, and it was the common talk in Paris that he
had so greatly impoverished himself that Poissy might have to be sold.
M. de Cadanet put a great many questions to him on the matter. He had
no wish to prejudice him against the young man, and evaded his questions
when he could; on the other hand, he did not profess any regard for him,
and did not conceal the fact of his extravagance. Asked whether M. de
Cadanet had ever expressed his intention of assisting the accused, he
replied most emphatically no. He had, on the contrary, spoken of him
with great indignation. But of course he could not profess to judge of
M. de Cadanet's private intentions.
Did M. de Cadanet inform him of the abstraction of the notes?
Never, until just before his death.
Desired to relate the circumstances of M. de Cadanet's disclosure, he
gave an account of his illness. It was not until he was apparently in
extremis that the count informed him of what had taken place, and
advised him to recover his money from M. de Beaudrillart.
Here the examination in chief was interrupted by Maitre Barraud
inquiring through the judge why M. de Cadanet had not brought the action
himself. M. Lemaire could not say with certainty, but thought he had
abstained owing to a sentiment of affection towards the defunct baron,
M. de Beaudrillart's father. The question was then put why in a matter
of so much importance he had not caused M. de Cadanet's deposition to be
formally taken before witnesses. For the first time Lemaire very
slightly hesitated. He then said that it had not seemed absolutely
necessary, as M. de Cadanet showed him a letter from de Beaudrillart
admitting the theft.
The Procureur remarked that the theft was admitted by the defence, and
at once Maitre Barraud demanded the production of the letter.
The judge agreed, and meanwhile the examination proceeded.
M. de Cadanet, speaking with great difficulty, had informed the witness
that he had answered this insolent letter by another, in which he told
M. de Beaudrillart that he would hear more of the transaction at a later
date.
Here the judge again interposed, but it was to ask the prisoner whether
he had received this letter.
Leon replied that he had, and that the contents were such as had been
described, but that he had destroyed it at the time--an answer which
created a decidedly unfavourable impression.
Lemaire, proceeding, said that M. de Cadanet was a man of few friends,
who had lived altogether alone the last years of his life. During his
last illness he had no one to care for and nurse him except he Lemaire
himself, and his wife, M. de Cadanet's niece by marriage.
In answer to an inquiry whether his wife had heard M. de Cadanet's
statement, he said she had not; the count had wished to speak to him
alone.
"And this wish you scrupulously carried out?"
"Certainly. Monsieur de Cadanet was a man who would be obeyed."
"You are, I think, the principal legatee under the will?"
"I am."
"Will you state why you decided upon asking for this prosecution."
"In compliance with Monsieur de Cadanet's express desire, he said he had
often reproached himself with having taken no steps himself, but that
age and illness had weakened his energy. It was in order that I might
undertake the task that he confided the papers to me."
The examination continued for some time longer on these lines. The
effect it produced was decidedly adverse to the accused. It had nearly
concluded when the called-for letter arrived, and was read:
"Mr Cousin,--I have taken the liberty of borrowing the sum which you
had so thoughtfully prepared for Monsieur Charles. It would have been
better for him if you had accepted my offer to post your letter; as
you declined to trust me, I had no scruple in exchanging it for
another, which found itself in my hand at the exact moment. Do not
blame your messenger, who is quite unaware of the transaction. By my
writing to you, you will perceive that I have no intention of denying
what I have done. It is in your power to have me arrested. You know
where to find me, and I will remain in Paris for two days, so as to
avoid the pain to my family of a scandal at Poissy. Permit me,
however, to point out that I have only taken the money as a loan, that
it will be returned to you by instalments and with interest, though, I
fear, slowly, and that you may find it more advantageous to allow the
matter to rest than to ruin one who, however unworthy, is the son of
the man to whom you are certainly indebted for your prosperity, and
who begs to subscribe himself.
"Yours faithfully,--
"Leon de Beaudrillart."
As the last word of the letter died away, a movement passed through the
court. The judge addressed himself to Leon.
"That is your letter?"
"It is."
Maitre Miron put another question to M. Lemaire.
"When Monsieur de Cadanet presented you with this letter, did he make
any allusion to its concluding sentence?"
"Certainly," replied the witness, coolly. "He said that Monsieur de
Beaudrillart had very much exaggerated the services rendered to him by
the defunct baron."
The prisoner burst out with the word "Liar!" and was sharply rebuked for
the interruption.
Further examined as to whether he was certain that the money had never
been repaid, the witness said that his only knowledge was derived from
M. de Cadanet himself, who assured him that he had not received a sou.
"If it were otherwise," he remarked, "receipts would certainly exist,
the count being a man of excellent business habits."
After a few more unimportant questions, it was felt that Lemaire had
given his evidence clearly, and, except in two answers, had been very
careful in both tone and wording to preserve an appearance of perfect
fairness towards the prisoner. The two exceptions were those in which
he alluded to the absence of a receipt, and to M. de Cadanet having
disclaimed receiving any considerable help from M. de Beaudrillart's
father.
Nathalie looked at Maitre Barraud with a yet more sinking heart. The
Procureur de la Republique had appeared to her an ideal counsel--
shrewd-faced, energetic, keen. His opponent, with his round, boyish
face, his almost indifferent manner, and a certain air of hesitation,
which she had not noticed so much before, did not give the impression of
being in any way his equal. The questions he suggested appeared to her
to be little to the point, and though she carefully kept discouragement
from her face, so that Leon, when he glanced at her, might take comfort,
she had never felt more discouraged.
With an air of extreme innocence, as of one only seeking for
enlightenment, Maitre Barraud pursued through the court his inquiries as
to Lemaire's first acquaintance with M. de Beaudrillart. He had seen
him play. "You played yourself, of course?"
Charles shrugged his shoulders. "Occasionally. Why else should I have
been there?"
"Oh, precisely! Why else!" repeated his questioner, deprecatingly.
"And doubtless, Monsieur de Cadanet, as a man of the world, took an
interest in your fortune at the tables!" Lemaire, suspecting a trap,
replied that they were not in the habit of talking over it.
"Ah! Only of Monsieur de Beaudrillart's!"
"Nor of Monsieur de Beaudrillart's."
"No! I gathered that the fact of his large gambling losses displeased
Monsieur de Cadanet!"
"Possibly."
"But they were not learned from you!"
"Not in the first place. When he asked questions I could only tell the
truth."
"Unquestionably. Truth is an inestimable virtue. You were not the
first to speak of them. Who, then? The concierge has given evidence
that the count received no visitors."
"It is impossible to say. Rumour filters everywhere. Possibly the
servants talked."
"We will hear that from them by-and-by. You were naturally anxious to
keep on good terms with Monsieur de Cadanet, and that you did so has
been amply proved. The only other person in whom he seems to have shown
an interest was Monsieur de Beaudrillart!"
"I do not know that he took much interest."
"You said he asked many questions on the subject. That looks like it."
"I cannot say. It may have been so."
"It looks like it," repeated Maitre Barraud, equably. "The situation,
then, appears to have been that you and the accused both played, and
that Monsieur de Cadanet was displeased with him only. Was it owing to
the fact that he lost and you won?"
Up to this point the questions had dropped out in an almost sleepily
courteous tone. The last had the effect of a sharp, sudden, and
unexpected thrust. M. Bourget muttered, "That drew blood." Nathalie
listened, breathless. Lemaire answered, sulkily, "I do not know," and
Maitre Barraud, after a momentary pause by which he succeeded in
emphasising his inquiry, dropped the subject.
Lemaire held himself very determinedly on guard after this episode,
which he was conscious had told against him, and little was elicited.
The counsel passed on to the account of what took place at the time of
the count's death. He made particular inquiries as to who was in the
house, and then put another question through the judge.
"You were married, I think, at the time of the alleged theft?"
"I was."
"But your wife was not much at the house?"
"No. Monsieur de Cadanet saw her at intervals, but it was not until his
health failed that he liked to have her about him."
"Did she undertake all the nursing?"
"When he was seriously ill there was a nurse as well."
"And at the time when he made this--this extraordinary revelation,
Madame Lemaire was not in the room?"
"Certainly not!" said Lemaire, hastily.
"You have told the judge that you thought it unnecessary to have his
words taken down as a formal deposition; did it not occur to you it
would have been very desirable to have called in witnesses to hear what
now rests upon your own unsupported word?"
"Monsieur de Beaudrillart's own letter gave the necessary evidence."
"As to his borrowing the sum--"
The judge here interpolated, "It was stealing. It cannot be called
borrowing."
"Unauthorised borrowing, monsieur le president, I acknowledge. But if
repaid, as we maintain, the jury will not consider it a theft. And the
witness, who is the person most interested, can bring no evidence to
prove that it was not repaid beyond his own report of what I will
venture to call an imaginary conversation!"
The Procureur remarked:
"The absence of a receipt."
"Well, we will say no more at present on this subject. Monsieur de
Cadanet, having kept silence for many years, at a time when most men are
anxious to be in charity with their fellow-sinners, carried out, we will
suppose, a determined act of revenge against this unfortunate young man.
Did he advise or enjoin you to bring this action! Can you repeat what
passed?"
"Not in exact words. He gave me to understand that he had warned
Monsieur de Beaudrillart in the letter which was destroyed that
proceedings would be taken."
"And your wife heard nothing!"
"Nothing."
"Although she was in constant attendance?"
"He only spoke once on the subject."
"Did not even allude to her about this family, which must have been much
in his mind?"
"No."
"That was a lie," reflected Maitre Barraud, quickly. "When he tells a
lie his eyebrows twitch slightly." At this point the court adjourned
for an hour, and he hastily scrawled something on a piece of paper, and
had it passed to M. Rodoin. The words were, "Madame Lemaire is not in
court; let Madame de Beaudrillart go to her at once and alone."