“Until the day of divine judgment.”
Far from appearing hurt by such an outburst of indignation, the
magistrate, after having listened with impassive face, said, as soon as
the doctor stopped for want of breath,--
“You must have discovered something new.”
“Most assuredly. I think I hold at last the thread of the fearful plot
which is killing my poor Daniel. Ah, if he would but live! But he cannot
live.”
“Well, well, console yourself, doctor. You said human justice has its
limits, and hosts of criminals escape its vengeance; but in this case,
whether Lieut. Champcey live or die, justice shall be done, I promise
you!”
He spoke in a tone of such absolute certainty, that the old surgeon was
struck by it. He exclaimed,--
“Has the murderer confessed the crime?”
The magistrate shook his head.
“No,” he replied; “nor have I seen him again since the first
examination. But I have not been asleep. I have been searching; and I
think I have sufficient evidence now to bring out the truth. And if you,
on your side, have any positive information”--
“Yes, I have; and I think I am justified now in communicating it to you.
I have, besides, a letter”--
He was pulling the letter out of his pocket; but the magistrate stopped
him, saying,--
“We cannot talk here in the middle of the court, where everybody can
watch us from the windows. The court-room is quite near: suppose we go
there, doctor.”
For all answer the surgeon put on his cap firmly, took his friend’s arm,
and the next moment the soldier on duty at the gate of the hospital
saw them go out, engaged in a most animated conversation. When they had
reached the magistrate’s room, he shut the door carefully; and, after
having invited the surgeon to take a seat, he said:--
“I shall ask you for your information in a moment. First listen to what
I have to say. I know now who Evariste Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet,
really is; and I know the principal events of his life. Ah! it has
cost me time and labor enough; but human justice is patient, doctor.
Considering that this man had sailed on board ‘The Conquest’ for more
than four months, in company with one hundred and fifty emigrants, I
thought it would be unlikely that he should not have tried to break
the monotony of such a voyage by long talks with friends. He is a good
speaker, a Parisian, a former soldier, and a great traveller. He was,
no doubt, always sure of an audience. I sent, therefore, one by one, for
all the former passengers on board ‘The Conquest,’ whom I could find,
a hundred, perhaps; and I examined them. I soon found out that my
presumption was not unfounded.
“Almost every one of them had found out some detail of Bagnolet’s
life, some more, some less, according to the degree of honesty or
demoralization which Bagnolet thought he discovered in them. I collected
all the depositions of these witnesses; I completed and compared them,
one by the other; and thus, by means of the confessions of the accused,
certain allusions and confidences of his made to others, and his
indiscretions when he was drunk, I was enabled to make up his biography
with a precision which is not likely to be doubted.”
Without seeming to notice the doctor’s astonishment, he opened a large
case on his table; and, drawing from it a huge bundle of papers, he held
it up in the air, saying,--
“Here are the verbal depositions of my hundred and odd witnesses.”
Then, pointing at four or five sheets of paper, which were covered with
very fine and close writing, he added,--
“And here are my extracts. Now, doctor, listen,--”
And at once he commenced reading this biography of his “accused,” making
occasional remarks, and explaining what he had written.
“_Evariste Crochard_, surnamed _Bagnolet_, was born at Bagnolet in 1829,
and is, consequently, older than he says, although he looks younger. He
was born in February; and this month is determined by the deposition
of a witness, to whom the accused offered, during the voyage, a bottle,
with the words, ‘To-day is my birthday.’
“From all the accounts of the accused, it appears that his parents
were evidently very honest people. His father was foreman in a copper
foundry; and his mother a seamstress. They may be still living; but for
many years they have not seen their son.
“The accused was sent to school; and, if you believe him, he learned
quickly, and showed remarkable talents. But from his twelfth year he
joined several bad companions of his age, and frequently abandoned his
home for weeks, roaming about Paris. How did he support himself while he
was thus vagabondizing?
“He has never given a satisfactory explanation. But he has made such
precise statements about the manner in which youthful thieves maintain
themselves in the capital, that many witnesses suspect him of having
helped them in robbing open stalls in the streets.
“The positive result of these investigations is, that his father,
distressed by his misconduct, and despairing of ever seeing him mend his
ways, had him sent to a house of correction when he was fourteen years
old.
“Released at the end of eighteen months, he says he was bound out as
an apprentice, and soon learned his business well enough to support
himself. This last allegation, however, cannot be true; for four
witnesses, of whom one at least is of the same profession as Crochard,
declare that they have seen him at work, and that, if he ever was a
skilled mechanic, he is so no longer. Besides, he cannot have been long
at work; for he had been a year in prison again, when the revolution
of 1848 began. This fact he has himself stated to more than twenty-five
persons. But he has explained his imprisonment very differently; and
almost every witness has received a new version. One was told that he
had been sentenced for having stabbed one of his companions while drunk;
another, that it was for a row in a drinking-saloon; and a third, that
he was innocently involved with others in an attempt to rob a foreigner.
“The prosecution is, therefore, entitled to conclude fairly that
Crochard was sentenced simply as a thief.
“Set free soon after the revolution, he did not resume his profession,
but secured a place as machinist in a theatre on the boulevards. At the
end of three months he was turned off, because of ‘improper conduct with
women,’ according to one; or, if we believe another statement, because
he was accused of a robbery committed in one of the boxes.
“Unable to procure work, he engaged himself as groom in a wandering
circus, and thus travelled through the provinces. But at Marseilles,
he is wounded in a fight, and has to go to a hospital, where he remains
three months.
“After his return to Paris, he associated himself with a rope-dancer,
but was soon called upon to enter the army. He escaped conscription by
good luck. But the next year we find him negotiating with a dealer in
substitutes; and he confesses having sold himself purely from a mad
desire to possess fifteen hundred francs at once, and to be able to
spend them in debauch. Having successfully concealed his antecedents,
he is next admitted as substitute in the B Regiment of the line; but,
before a year had elapsed, his insubordination has caused him to be sent
to Africa as a punishment.
“He remained there sixteen months, and conducted himself well enough to
be incorporated in the First Regiment of Marines, one battalion of which
was to be sent to Senegambia. He had, however, by no means given up
his bad ways; for he was very soon after condemned to ten years’ penal
servitude for having broken into a house by night as a robber.”
The chief surgeon, who had for some time given unmistakable signs of
impatience, now rose all of a sudden, and said,--
“Pardon me, if I interrupt you, sir; but can you rely upon the veracity
of your witnesses?”
“Why should I doubt them?”
“Because it seems to me very improbable that a cunning fellow, such as
this Crochard seems to be, should have denounced himself.”
“But he has not denounced himself.”
“Ah?”
“He has often mentioned this condemnation; but he has always attributed
it to acts of violence against a superior; On that point he has never
varied in his statements.”
“Then how on earth did you learn”--
“The truth? Oh, very simply. _I_ inquired at Saigon; and I succeeded
in finding a sergeant in the Second Regiment of Marines, who was in
the First Regiment at the same time with Crochard. He gave me all these
details. And there is no mistake about the identity; for, as soon as
I said ‘Crochard’ the sergeant exclaimed, ‘Oh, yes! Crochard, surnamed
Bagnolet.’”