THE CONCLUSION OF THE PROSECUTION
It length the case for the prosecution was concluded, with an
expression of regret on the part of counsel at the absence of Pauline,
who might have been able to supply additional evidence, if any were
needed, of the guilt of the prisoner.
"Every effort has been made," said counsel, "to trace and produce this
woman, but when she parted from the murdered girl no person knew
whither she was directing her steps; even the Widow Joseph, the one
living person besides the mysterious male visitor who was in frequent
consultation with her, can furnish us with no clue. The victim of this
foul and horrible crime could most likely have told us, but her lips
are sealed by the murderer's hand, the murderous wretch who stands
before you.
"It has been suggested that Pauline has met with foul play. It may be
so; otherwise, it is humanly impossible to divine the cause that could
keep her from this trial.
"Neither have we been able to trace the man who was in her confidence,
and between whom and herself a secret of a strange nature existed.
"In my own mind I do not doubt that this secret related to Madeline,
but whether it did do so or not cannot affect the issue of this trial;
neither can the absence of Pauline and her mysterious friend affect
it. The proofs of the cruel, ruthless murder are complete and
irrefragable, and nothing is wanting, not a link, in the chain of
evidence to enable you to return a verdict which will deprive
of the opportunity of committing further crime a wretch as infamous
as ever walked the earth. He declares his innocence; if the value
of that declaration is to be gauged by the tissue of falsehoods
he has uttered, by his shameless effrontery and denials, by his
revolting revelations of the degradation of his nature, he stands
self-convicted.
"But it needs not that; had he not spoken, the issue would be the
same; for painful and shocking as is the spectacle, you have but to
glance at him to assure yourself of his guilt. If that is not
sufficient to move you unhesitatingly to your duty, cast him from your
thoughts and weigh only the evidence of truth which has been laid
unfolded to you.
"As I speak, a picture of that terrible night, in the darkness of
which the fearful deed was committed, rises before me.
"I see the river's bank in a mist of shadows; I see two forms moving
onward, one a monster in human shape, the other that of a child who
had never wronged a fellow creature, a child whose spirit was joyous
and whose amiable disposition won every heart.
"It is not with her willing consent that this monster is in her
company. He has followed her stealthily until he finds an opportunity
to be alone with her, at a time when she is least likely to have
friends near her; and in a place where she is entirely at his mercy.
He forces his attentions upon her; she repulses him. She turns towards
her home; he thrusts her roughly back. Enraged at her obstinacy, he
threatens to kill her; his threats are heard by persons returning home
along the river's bank, and, until the sound of their footsteps has
died away and they are out of hearing, he keeps his victim silent by
force.
"Being alone with her once more, he renews his infamous suit. She
still repulses him, and then commences a struggle which must have made
the angels weep to witness.
"In vain his victim pleads, in vain she struggles; she clings to him
and begs for her life in tones that might melt the stoniest heart; but
this demon has no heart. He winds his handkerchief round her neck, he
beats and tears her, as is proved by the bruises on her poor body. The
frightful struggle ends, and the deed is accomplished which condemns
the wretch to life-long torture in this world and to perdition in the
next.
"Do not lose sight of this picture and of the evidence which
establishes it; and let me warn you not to be diverted by sophistry or
specious reasoning from the duty which you are here to perform.
"A most vile and horrible crime has been committed; the life of a
child has been cruelly, remorselessly, wickedly sacrificed; her blood
calls for justice on her murderer; and upon you rests the solemn
responsibility of not permitting the escape of a wretch whose guilt
has been proven by evidence so convincing as to leave no room for
doubt in the mind of any human being who reasons in accordance with
facts.
"I cannot refrain from impressing upon you the stern necessity of
allowing no other considerations than those supplied by a calm
judgment to guide you in the delivery of your verdict. I should be
wanting in my duty if I did not warn you that there have been cases in
which the guilty have unfortunately escaped by the raising of side
issues which had but the remotest bearing upon the crimes of which
they stood accused. It is not by specious logic that a guilty man can
be proved innocent. Innocence can only be established by facts, and
the facts laid before you are fatal in the conclusion to be deduced
from them. Bear these facts in mind, and do not allow your judgment to
be clouded even by the highest triumphs of eloquence. I know of no
greater reproach from which men of sensibility can suffer than that
which proceeds from the consciousness that, in an unguarded moment,
they have allowed themselves to be turned aside from the performance
of a solemn duty. May you have no cause for such a reproach! May you
have no cause to lament that you have allowed your judgment to be
warped by a display of passionate and fevered oratory! Let a sense of
justice alone be your guide. Justice we all desire, nothing more and
nothing less. The law demands it of you; society demands it of you.
The safety of your fellow citizens, the honour of young girls, of your
sisters, your daughters, and others dear to you, depend upon your
verdict. For if wretches like the prisoner are permitted to walk in
our midst, to pursue their savage courses, to live their evil lives,
unchecked, life and honour are in fatal peril. The duty you have to
perform is a sacred duty--see that you perform it righteously and
conscientiously, and bear in mind that the eyes of the Eternal are
upon you."
This appeal, delivered with intense earnestness, produced a profound
impression. In the faces of the jury was written the fate of Gautran.
They looked at each other with stern resolution. Under these
circumstances, when the result of the trial appeared to be a foregone
conclusion, it might have been expected, the climax of interest having
apparently been reached, that the rising of the Advocate to speak for
the defence would have attracted but slight attention. It was not so.
At that moment the excitement reached a painful pitch, and every
person in the court, with the exception of the jury and the judges,
leant forward with eager and absorbed expectation.