THE TRIAL OF GAUTRAN
The trial of Gautran was proceeding, and the court was thronged with
an excited gathering of men and women, upon whom not a word in the
story of the tragic drama was thrown away. Impressed by the great
powers of the Advocate who had undertaken to appear for the accused,
the most effective measures had been adopted to prove Gautran's guilt,
and obtain a conviction.
It was a legal battle, fought with all the subtle weapons at the
disposal of the law.
Gautran's prosecutors fought with faces unmasked, and with their hands
displayed; the Advocate, on the contrary, was pursuing a course which
none could fathom; nor did he give a clue to it. Long before the case
was closed the jury were ready to deliver their verdict; but, calm and
unmoved, the Advocate, with amazing patience, followed out his secret
theory, the revelation of which was awaited, by those who knew him
best and feared him most, with intense and painful curiosity.
Every disreputable circumstance in Gautran's life was raked up to
display the odiousness of his character; his infamous career was
tracked from his childhood to the hour of his arrest. A creature more
debased, with features more hideous, it would have been difficult to
drag forward from the worst haunts of crime and shame. Degraded he was
born, degraded he had lived, degraded he stood before his judges. It
was a horror to gaze upon his face as he stood in the dock,
convulsively clutching the rails.
For eight days had he so stood, execrated and condemned by all. For
eight days he had endured the anguish of a thousand deaths, of a
myriad agonising fears. His soul had been harrowed by the most awful
visions--visions of which none but himself had any conception. In his
cell with the gaolers watching his every movement; in the court with
the glare of daylight upon him; in the dusky corridors he traversed
morning and evening he saw the phantom of the girl with whose murder
he was charged, and by her side the phantom of himself standing on the
threshold of a future in which there was no mercy or pity.
No communication passed between him and the lawyer who was fighting
for him; not once did the Advocate turn to the prisoner or address a
word to him; it was as though he were battling for a victory in which
Gautran was in no wise concerned. But if indeed he desired to win, he
adopted the strangest tactics to accomplish his desire. Not a question
he asked the witnesses, not an observation he made to the judge, but
tended to fix more surely the prisoner's degradation, and gradually
there stole into Gautran's heart a deadly hatred and animosity against
his defender.
"He defends me to ruin me," this was Gautran's thought; "he is seeking
to destroy me, body and soul."
His own replies to the questions put to him by the judge were
sufficient to convict him. He equivocated and lied in the most
barefaced manner, and when he was exposed and reproved, evinced no
shame--preserving either a dogged silence, or obstinately exclaiming
that the whole world was leagued against him. Apart from the question
whether he was lying or speaking the truth, there was a certain
consistency in his method which would have been of service to him had
his cause been good. This was especially noticeable when he was being
interrogated with respect to his relations with the murdered girl.
"You insist," said the judge, "that Madeline accepted you as her
lover?"
"Yes," replied Gautran, "I insist upon it."
"Evidence will be brought forward to prove that it was not so. What,
then, will you answer?"
"That whoever denies it is a liar."
"And if a dozen or twenty deny it?"
"They lie, the lot of them."
"What should make them speak falsely instead of truly?"
"Because they are all against me."
"There is no other evidence except your bare statement that Madeline
and you were affianced."
"That is my misfortune. If she were alive she could speak for me."
"It is a safe remark, the poor child being in her grave. It is the
rule for young girls to love men whose appearance is not repulsive."
"Is this," cried Gautran, smiting his face with his fist, "to stand as
a witness against me, too?"
"No; but a girl has generally a cause for falling in love. If the man
be not attractive in appearance, it is almost certain he will possess
some other quality to attract her. He may be clever, and this may win
her."
"I do not pretend to be clever."
"His manners may be engaging. His nature may be kind and affectionate,
and she may have had proof of it."
"_My_ nature is kind and affectionate. It may have been that, if you
are determined upon having a reason for her fondness for me."
"She was fond of you?"
"Aye."
"Did she tell you so, and when?"
"Always when we were alone."
"We cannot have Madeline's evidence as to the feelings she entertained
for you; but we can have the evidence of others who knew you both. Are
you acquainted with Katherine Scherrer?"
"Not too well; we were never very intimate."
"She is a young woman a few years older than Madeline, and she warned
Madeline against you. She herself had received instances of your
brutality. Before you saw Madeline you made advances towards Katherine
Scherrer."
"False. She made advances towards me. She asked me to be her lover,
and now she speaks against me out of revenge."
"She has not spoken yet, but she will. Madeline told her that she
trembled at the sight of you, and had entreated you not to follow her;
but that you would not be shaken off."
"It is my way; I will never be baulked."
"It is true, therefore; you paid no attention to this poor girl's
entreaties because it is your way not to allow yourself to be
baulked."
"I did not mean that; I was thinking of other matters."
"Katherine Scherrer has a mother."
"Yes; a woman of no account."
"Some time ago this mother informed you, if you did not cease to
pester Katherine with your insulting proposals, that she would have
you beaten."
"I should like to see the man who would have attempted it."
"That is savagely spoken for one whose nature is kind and
affectionate."
"May not a man defend himself? I don't say I am kind and affectionate
to men; but I am to women."
"The murdered girl found you so. Hearing from her daughter that
Madeline was frightened of you, and did not wish you to follow her,
Katherine's mother desired you to let the girl alone."
"She lies."
"They all lie who utter a word against you?"
"Every one of them."
"You never courted Katherine Scherrer?"
"Never."
"Her mother never spoke to you about either her daughter or Madeline?"
"Never."
"Do you know the Widow Joseph?"
"No."
"Madeline lodged in her house."
"What is that to me?"
"Did she never speak to you concerning Madeline?"
"Never."
"Attend. Four nights before Madeline met her death you were seen
prowling outside Widow Joseph's house."
"I was not there."
"The Widow Joseph came out and asked you what you wanted."
"She did not."
"You said you must see Madeline. The Widow Joseph went into the house,
and returned with the message that Madeline would not see you. Upon
that you tried to force your way into the house, and struck the woman
because she prevented you. Madeline came down, alarmed at the sounds
of the struggle, and begged you to go away, and you said you would,
now that you had seen her, as you had made up your mind to. What have
you to say to this?"
"A batch of lies. Twenty women could not have prevented me getting
into the house."
"You think yourself a match for twenty women?"
"Aye."
"And for as many men?"
"For one man, whoever he may be. Give me the chance of proving it."
"Do you know Heinrich Heitz?"
"No."
"He is, like yourself, a woodcutter."
"There are thousands of woodcutters."
"Did you and he not work together as partners?"
"We did not."
"Were you not continually quarrelling, and did he not wish to break
the partnership?"
"No."
"In consequence of this, did you not threaten to murder him?"
"No."
"Did you not strike him with a weapon, and cut his forehead open?"
"No."
"How many women have you loved?"
"One."
"Her name?"
"Madeline."
"You never loved another?"
"Never."
"Have you been married?"
"No."
"Have you ever lived with a woman who should have been your wife?"
"Never."
"Did you not continually beat this poor woman until her life became a
burden to her, and she was compelled to fly from you to another part
of the country?"
"No."
"Do you expect to be believed in the answers you have given?"
"No."
"It is said that you possess great strength."
"It has served me in good stead."
"That you are a man of violent passions."
"I have my feelings. I would never submit to be trampled on."
"You were always kind to Madeline?"
"Always."
"On the night of her murder?"
"Yes."
"Witnesses will prove that you were heard to say, 'I will kill you! I
will kill you!' Do you deny saying so?"
"No."
"How does that cruel threat accord with a mild and affectionate
nature?"
"I was asking her whether she had another lover, and I said if she
had, and encouraged him, that I would kill her."
"The handkerchief found round her neck was yours."
"I gave it to her as a love-gift."
"A terrible love-gift. It was not wound loosely round her neck; it was
tight, almost to strangulation."
"She must have made it so in her struggles, or----"
"Or?"
"The man who killed her must have attempted to strangle her with it."
"That is your explanation?"
"Yes."
"Your face is bathed in perspiration; your eyes glare wildly."
"Change places with me, and see how you would feel."
"Such signs, then, are the signs of innocence?"
"What else should they be?"
During this long examination, Gautran's limbs trembled violently, and
there passed over his face the most frightful expressions.