THE JUDGES.
"Well, my brave friend," said Coconnas to La Mole, when the two were
together after the examination, at which, for the first time, the
subject of the waxen image had been discussed, "it seems to me that
everything is going on finely, and that it will not be long before the
judges will dismiss us. And this diagnosis is entirely different from
that of a dismissal by physicians. When the doctor gives up the patient
it is because he cannot cure him, but when the judge gives up the
accused it is because he has no further hope of having him beheaded."
"Yes," said La Mole; "and moreover, it seems to me, from the politeness
and gentleness of the jailer and the looseness of the doors, that I
recognize our kind friends; but I do not recognize Monsieur de Beaulieu,
at least from what I had been told of him."
"I recognize him," said Coconnas; "only it will cost dearly. But one is
a princess, the other a queen; both are rich, and they will never have
so good an opportunity to use their money. Now let us go over our
lesson. We are to be taken to the chapel, and left there in charge of
our turnkey; we shall each find a dagger in the spot indicated. I am to
make a hole in the body of our guide."
"Yes, but a slight one in the arm; otherwise you will rob him of his
five hundred crowns."
"Ah, no; not in the arm, for in that case he would have to lose it, and
it would be easy to see that it was given intentionally. No, it must be
in his right side, gliding skilfully along his ribs; that would look
natural, but in reality would be harmless."
"Well, aim for that, and then"--
"Then you will barricade the front door with benches while our two
princesses rush from behind the altar, where they are to be hidden, and
Henriette opens the vestry door. Ah, faith, how I love Henriette to-day!
She must have been faithless to me in some way for me to feel as I do."
"And then," said La Mole, with the trembling voice which falls from lips
like music, "then we shall reach the forest. A kiss given to each of us
will make us strong and happy. Can you not picture us, Annibal, bending
over our swift horses, our hearts gently oppressed? Oh, what a good
thing is fear! Fear in the open air when one has one's naked sword at
one's side, when one cries 'hurra' to the courser pricked by the spur,
and which at each shout speeds the faster."
"Yes," said Coconnas, "but fear within four walls--what do you say to
that, La Mole? I can speak of it, for I have felt something of it. When
Beaulieu, with his pale face, entered my cell for the first time, behind
him in the darkness shone halberds, and I heard a sinister sound of iron
striking against iron. I swear to you I immediately thought of the Duc
d'Alençon, and I expected to see his ugly face between the two hateful
heads of the halberdiers. I was mistaken, however, and this was my sole
consolation. But that was not all; night came, and I dreamed."
"So," said La Mole, who had been following his happy train of thought
without paying attention to his friend, "so they have foreseen
everything, even the place in which we are to hide. We shall go to
Lorraine, dear friend. In reality I should rather have had it Navarre,
for there I should have been with her, but Navarre is too far; Nancey
would be better; besides, once there, we should be only eighty leagues
from Paris. Have you any feeling of regret, Annibal, at leaving this
place?"
"Ah, no! the idea! Although I confess I am leaving everything that
belongs to me."
"Well, could we manage to take the worthy jailer with us instead of"--
"He would not go," said Coconnas, "he would lose too much. Think of it!
five hundred crowns from us, a reward from the government; promotion,
perhaps; how happy will be that fellow's life when I shall have killed
him! But what is the matter?"
"Nothing! An idea came to me."
"It is not a funny one, apparently, for you are frightfully pale."
"I was wondering why they should take us to the chapel."
"Why," said Coconnas, "to receive the sacrament. This is the time for
it, I think."
"But," said La Mole, "they take only those condemned to death or the
torture to the chapel."
"Oh!" said Coconnas, becoming somewhat pale in turn, "this deserves our
attention. Let us question the good man whom I am to split open. Here,
turnkey!"
"Did monsieur call?" asked the jailer, who had been keeping watch at the
top of the stairs.
"Yes; come here."
"Well?"
"It has been arranged that we are to escape from the chapel, has it
not?"
"Hush!" said the turnkey, looking round him in terror.
"Do not worry; no one can hear us."
"Yes, monsieur; it is from the chapel."
"They are to take us to the chapel, then?"
"Yes; that is the custom."
"The custom?"
"Yes; it is customary to allow every one condemned to death to pass the
night in the chapel."
Coconnas and La Mole shuddered and glanced at each other.
"You think we are condemned to death, then?"
"Certainly. You, too, must think so."
"Why should we think so?" asked La Mole.
"Certainly; otherwise you would not have arranged everything for your
escape."
"Do you know, there is reason in what he says!" said Coconnas to La
Mole.
"Yes; and what I know besides is that we are playing a close game,
apparently."
"But do you think I am risking nothing?" said the turnkey. "If in a
moment of excitement monsieur should make a mistake"--
"Well! by Heaven! I wish I were in your place," said Coconnas, slowly,
"and had to deal with no hand but this; with no sword except the one
which is to graze you."
"Condemned to death!" murmured La Mole, "why, that is impossible!"
"Impossible!" said the turnkey, naïvely, "and why?"
"Hush!" said Coconnas, "I think some one is opening the lower door."
"To your cells, gentlemen, to your cells!" cried the jailer, hurriedly.
"When do you think the trial will take place?" asked La Mole.
"To-morrow, or later. But be easy; those who must be informed shall be."
"Then let us embrace each other and bid farewell to these walls."
The two friends rushed into each other's arms and then returned to their
cells, La Mole sighing, Coconnas singing.
Nothing new happened until seven o'clock. Night fell dark and rainy over
the prison of Vincennes, a perfect night for flight. The evening meal
was brought to Coconnas, who ate with his usual appetite, thinking of
the pleasure he would feel in being soaked in the rain, which was
pattering against the walls, and already preparing himself to fall
asleep to the dull, monotonous murmur of the wind, when suddenly it
seemed to him that this wind, to which he occasionally listened with a
feeling of melancholy never before experienced by him until he came to
prison, whistled more strangely than usual under the doors, and that the
stove roared with a louder noise than common. This had happened every
time one of the cells above or opposite him was opened. It was by this
noise that Annibal always knew the jailer was coming from La Mole's
cell.
But this time it was in vain that Coconnas remained with eye and ear
alert.
The moments passed; no one came.
"This is strange," said Coconnas, "La Mole's door has been opened and
not mine. Could La Mole have called? Can he be ill? What does it mean?"
With a prisoner everything is a cause for suspicion and anxiety, as
everything is a cause for joy and hope.
Half an hour passed, then an hour, then an hour and a half.
Coconnas was beginning to grow sleepy from anger when the grating of the
lock made him spring to his feet.
"Oh!" said he, "has the time come for us to leave and are they going to
take us to the chapel without condemning us? By Heaven, what joy it
would be to escape on such a night! It is as dark as an oven! I hope the
horses are not blind."
He was about to ask some jocular question of the turnkey when he saw the
latter put his finger to his lips and roll his eyes significantly.
Behind the jailer Coconnas heard sounds and perceived shadows.
Suddenly in the midst of the darkness he distinguished two helmets, on
which the smoking candle threw a yellow light.
"Oh!" said he in a low voice, "what is this sinister procession? What is
going to happen?"
The jailer replied by a sigh which greatly resembled a groan.
"By Heaven!" murmured Coconnas; "what a wretched existence! always on
the ragged edge; never on firm land; either we paddle in a hundred feet
of water or we hover above the clouds; never a happy medium. Well, where
are we going?"
"Follow the halberdiers, monsieur," repeated the same voice.
He had to obey. Coconnas left his room, and perceived the dark man whose
voice had been so disagreeable. He was a clerk, small and hunchbacked,
who no doubt had put on the gown in order to hide his bandy legs, as
well as his back. He slowly descended the winding stairs. At the first
landing the guards paused.
"That is a good deal to go down," murmured Coconnas, "but not enough."
The door opened. The prisoner had the eye of a lynx and the scent of a
bloodhound. He scented the judges and saw in the shadow the silhouette
of a man with bare arms; the latter sight made the perspiration mount to
his brow. Nevertheless, he assumed his most smiling manner, and entered
the room with his head tipped to one side, and his hand on his hip,
after the most approved manner of the times.
A curtain was raised, and Coconnas perceived the judges and the clerks.
A few feet away La Mole was seated on a bench.
Coconnas was led to the front of the tribunal. Arrived there, he
stopped, nodded and smiled to La Mole, and then waited.
"What is your name, monsieur?" inquired the president.
"Marcus Annibal de Coconnas," replied the gentleman with perfect ease.
"Count de Montpantier, Chenaux, and other places; but they are known, I
presume."
"Where were you born?"
"At Saint Colomban, near Suza."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-seven years and three months."
"Good!" said the president.
"This pleases him, apparently," said Coconnas.
"Now," said the president after a moment's silence which gave the clerk
time to write down the answers of the accused; "what was your reason for
leaving the service of Monsieur d'Alençon?"
"To rejoin my friend Monsieur de la Mole, who had already left the duke
three days before."
"What were you doing the day of the hunt, when you were arrested?"
"Why," said Coconnas, "I was hunting."
"The King was also present at that hunt, and was there seized with the
first attack of the malady from which he is at present suffering."
"I was not near the King, and I can say nothing about this. I was even
ignorant of the fact that he had been ill."
The judges looked at one another with a smile of incredulity.
"Ah! you were ignorant of his Majesty's illness, were you?" said the
president.
"Yes, monsieur, and I am sorry to hear of it. Although the King of
France is not my king, I have a great deal of sympathy for him."
"Indeed!"
"On my honor! It is different so far as his brother the Duc d'Alençon is
concerned. The latter I confess"--
"We have nothing to do with the Duc d'Alençon, monsieur; this concerns
his Majesty."
"Well, I have already told you that I am his very humble servant," said
Coconnas, turning about in an adorably impudent fashion.
"If as you pretend, monsieur, you are really his servant, will you tell
us what you know of a certain waxen figure?"
"Ah, good! we have come back to the figure, have we?"
"Yes, monsieur; does this displease you?"
"On the contrary, I prefer it; go ahead."
"Why was this statue found in Monsieur de la Mole's apartments?"
"At Monsieur de la Mole's? At Réné's, you mean?"
"You acknowledge that it exists, then, do you?"
"Why, if you will show it to me."
"Here it is. Is this the one you know?"
"It is."
"Clerk," said the president, "write down that the accused recognizes the
image as the one seen at Monsieur de la Mole's."
"No, no!" said Coconnas, "do not let us misunderstand each other--as the
one seen at Réné's."
"At Réné's; very good! On what day?"
"The only day La Mole and myself were at Réné's."
"You admit, then, that you were at Réné's with Monsieur de la Mole?"
"Why, did I ever deny it?"
"Clerk, write down that the accused admits having gone to Réné's to work
conjurations."
"Stop there, Monsieur le Président. Moderate your enthusiasm, I beg you.
I did not say that at all."
"You deny having been at Réné's to work conjurations?"
"I deny it. The magic took place by accident. It was unpremeditated."
"But it took place?"
"I cannot deny that something resembling a charm did take place."
"Clerk, write down that the accused admits that he obtained at Réné's a
charm against the life of the King."
"What! against the King's life? That is an infamous lie! There was no
charm obtained against the life of the King."
"You see, gentlemen!" said La Mole.
"Silence!" said the president; then turning to the clerk: "Against the
life of the King," he continued. "Have you that?"
"Why, no, no!" cried Coconnas. "Besides, the figure is not that of a
man, but of a woman."
"What did I tell you, gentlemen?" said La Mole.
"Monsieur de la Mole," said the president, "answer when you are
questioned, but do not interrupt the examination of others."
"So you say that it is a woman?"
"Certainly I say so."
"In that case, why did it have a crown and a cloak?"
"By Heaven!" said Coconnas, "that is simple enough, because it was"--
La Mole rose and put his finger on his lips.
"That is so," said Coconnas, "what was I going to say that could
possibly concern these gentlemen?"
"You persist in stating that the figure is that of a woman?"
"Yes; certainly I persist."
"And you refuse to say what woman?"
"A woman of my country," said La Mole, "whom I loved and by whom I
wished to be loved in return."
"We are not asking you, Monsieur de la Mole," said the president; "keep
silent, therefore, or you shall be gagged."
"Gagged!" exclaimed Coconnas; "what do you mean, monsieur of the black
robe? My friend gagged? A gentleman! the idea!"
"Bring in Réné," said the Attorney-General Laguesle.
"Yes; bring in Réné," said Coconnas; "we shall see who is right here, we
two or you three."
Réné entered, pale, aged, and almost unrecognizable to the two friends,
bowed under the weight of the crime he was about to commit much more
than because of those he had already committed.
"Maître Réné," said the judge, "do you recognize the two accused persons
here present?"
"Yes, monsieur," replied Réné, in a voice which betrayed his emotion.
"From having seen them where?"
"In several places; and especially at my house."
"How many times did they go to your house?"
"Once only."
As Réné spoke the face of Coconnas expanded; La Mole's, on the contrary,
looked as though he had a presentiment of evil.
"For what purpose were they at your house?"
Réné seemed to hesitate a moment.
"To order me to make a waxen figure," said he.
"Pardon me, Maître Réné," said Coconnas, "you are making a slight
mistake."
"Silence!" said the president; then turning to Réné, "was this figure to
be that of a man or a woman?"
"A man," replied Réné.
Coconnas sprang up as if he had received an electric shock.
"A man!" he exclaimed.
"A man," repeated Réné, but in so low a tone that the president scarcely
heard him.
"Why did this figure of a man have on a mantle and a crown?"
"Because it represented a king."
"Infamous liar!" cried Coconnas, infuriated.
"Keep still, Coconnas, keep still," interrupted La Mole, "let the man
speak; every one has a right to sell his own soul."
"But not the bodies of others, by Heaven!"
"And what was the meaning of the needle in the heart of the figure, with
the letter 'M' on a small banner?"
"The needle was emblematical of the sword or the dagger; the letter 'M'
stands for _mort_."
Coconnas sprang forward as though to strangle Réné, but four guards
restrained him.
"That will do," said the Attorney Laguesle, "the court is sufficiently
informed. Take the prisoners to the waiting-room."
"But," exclaimed Coconnas, "it is impossible to hear one's self accused
of such things without protesting."
"Protest, monsieur, no one will hinder you. Guards, did you hear?"
The guards seized the two prisoners and led them out, La Mole by one
door, Coconnas by another.
Then the attorney signed to the man whom Coconnas had perceived in the
shadow, and said to him:
"Do not go away, my good fellow, you shall have work this evening."
"Which shall I begin with, monsieur?" asked the man, respectfully
holding his cap in his hand.
"With that one," said the president, pointing to La Mole, who could
still be seen disappearing in the distance between the two guards. Then
approaching Réné, who stood trembling, expecting to be led back to the
cell in which he had been confined:
"You have spoken well, monsieur," said he to him, "you need not worry.
Both the King and the queen shall know that it is to you they are
indebted for the truth of this affair."
But instead of giving him strength, this promise seemed to terrify Réné,
whose only answer was a deep sigh.