“Gently, gentlemen, gently! Don’t let us be over-hasty in accusing a
poor fellow of such a fearful crime, when, perhaps, he is guilty only of
imprudence.”
“O doctor, doctor!” protested half a dozen voices.
“I beg your pardon! Don’t let us be hasty, I say; and let us consider,
For an assassination there must be a motive, and an all-powerful motive;
for, aside from the scaffold which he risks, no man is capable of
killing another man solely for the purpose of shedding his blood. Now,
in this case, I look in vain for any reason, which could have induced
the man to commit a murder. He certainly did not expect to rob our poor
comrade. But hatred, you say, or vengeance, perhaps! Well, that may be.
But, before a man makes up his mind to shoot even the man he hates like
a dog, he must have been cruelly offended by him; and, to bring this
about, he must have been in contact, or must have stood in some relation
to him. Now, I ask you, is it not far more probable that the murderer
saw our friend Champcey this morning for the first time?”
“I beg your pardon, commandant! He knew him perfectly well.”
The man who interrupted the doctor was one of the sailors to whom the
prisoner had been intrusted to carry him to prison. He came forward,
twisting his worsted cap in his hands; and, when the old surgeon had
ordered him to speak, he said,--
“Yes, the rascal knew the lieutenant as well as I know you, commandant;
and the reason of it is, that the scoundrel was one of the emigrants
whom we brought here eighteen months ago.”
“Are you sure of what you say?”
“As sure as I see you, commandant. At first my comrade and I did not
recognize him, because a year and a half in this wretched country
disfigure a man horribly; but, while we were carrying him to jail, we
said to one another, ‘That is a head we have seen before.’ Then we
made him talk; and he told us gradually, that he had been one of the
passengers, and that he even knew my name, which is Baptist Lefloch.”
This deposition of the sailor made a great impression upon all the
bystanders, except the old doctor. It is true he was looked upon, on
board “The Conquest,” as one of the most obstinate men in holding on to
his opinions.
“Do you know,” he asked the sailor, “if this man was one of the four or
five who had to be put in irons during the voyage?”
“No, he was not one of them, commandant.”
“Did he ever have anything to do with Lieut. Champcey? Has he been
reprimanded by him, or punished? Has he ever spoken to him?”
“Ah, commandant! that is more than I can tell.”
The old doctor slightly shrugged his shoulders, and said in a tone of
indifference,--
“You see, gentlemen, this deposition is too vague to prove anything.
Believe me, therefore, do not let us judge before the trial, and let us
go to bed.”
Day was just breaking, pale and cool; the sailors disappeared one by
one. The doctor was getting ready to lie down on a bed which he had
ordered to be put up in a room adjoining that in which the wounded man
was lying, when an officer came in. It was one of those who had been
standing near Champcey; he, also, was a lieutenant.
“I should like to have a word in private with you, doctor,” he said.
“Very well,” replied the old surgeon. “Be kind enough to come up to my
room.” And when they were alone, he locked the door, and said,--
“I am listening.”
The lieutenant thought a moment, like a man who looks for the best form
in which to present an important idea, and then said,--
“Between us, doctor, do you believe it was an accident, or a crime?”
The surgeon hesitated visibly.
“I will tell you, but you only, frankly, that I do not believe it was an
accident. But as we have no evidence”--
“Pardon me! I think I have evidence.”
“Oh!”
“You shall, judge yourself. When Daniel fell, he said, ‘This time, they
have not missed me!’”
“Did he say so?”
“Word for word. And Saint Edme, who was farther from him than I was,
heard it as distinctly as I did.”
To the great surprise of the lieutenant, the chief surgeon seemed only
moderately surprised; his eyes, on the contrary, shone with that pleased
air of a man who congratulates himself at having foreseen exactly what
he now is told was the fact. He drew a chair up to the fireplace, in
which a huge fire had been kindled to dry his clothes, sat down, and
said,--
“Do you know, my dear lieutenant, that what you tell me is a matter
of the greatest importance? What may we not conclude from those words,
‘This time they have not missed me’? In the first place, it proves that
Champcey was fully aware that his life was in danger. Secondly,
that plural, ‘They have not,’ shows that he knew he was watched and
threatened by several people: hence the scamp whom we caught must have
accomplices. In the third place, those words, ‘This time,’ establish the
fact that his life has been attempted before.”
“That is just what I thought, doctor.”
The worthy old gentleman looked very grave and solemn, meditating
deeply.
“Well, I,” he continued slowly, “I had a very clear presentiment of
all that as soon as I looked at the murderer. Do you remember the man’s
amazing impudence as long as he thought he could not be convicted of the
crime? And then, when he found that the calibre of his gun betrayed him,
how abject, how painfully humble, he became! Evidently such a man is
capable of anything.”
“Oh! you need only look at him”--
“Yes, indeed! Well, as I was thus watching him, I instinctively
recalled the two remarkable accidents which so nearly killed our poor
Champcey,--that block that fell upon him from the skies, and that
shipwreck in the Dong-Nai. But I was still doubtful. After what you tell
me, I am sure.”
He seized the lieutenant’s hand; and, pressing it almost painfully, he
went on,--
“Yes, I am ready to take my oath that this wretch is the vile tool of
people who hate or fear Daniel Champcey; who are deeply interested in
his death; and who, being too cowardly to do their own business, are
rich enough to hire an assassin.”
The lieutenant was evidently unable to follow.
“Still, doctor,” he objected, “but just now you insisted”--
“Upon a diametrically opposite doctrine; eh?”
“Precisely.”