THE TRIAL OF FERNAND WAGNER.
On the ensuing morning Wagner stood before the judge of the Criminal
Tribunal of the Republic.
The judgment hall was a large and lofty room in the Palazzo del Podesta,
or ducal palace. The judges sat in antique and richly carved chairs,
placed on a platform, beneath a canopy of purple velvet fringed with
gold.
On the left, at a handsome desk covered with papers, was seated the
procurator fiscal or attorney-general of the republic, distinguished in
attire from the judges only by the fact of the ermine upon his scarlet
robe being narrower than theirs. Opposite to this functionary was a
bench whereon the witnesses were placed. The prisoner stood between two
sbirri in a small pew, in the center of the court. Defendants in civil
cases were alone permitted in that age and country to retain counsel in
their behalf; persons accused of crimes were debarred this privilege.
Wagner was therefore undefended.
The proceedings of the tribunal were usually conducted privately; but
about a dozen gentlemen and twice as many ladies had obtained orders of
admission on this occasion, the case having produced considerable
sensation in Florence, on account of the reputed wealth of the accused.
Perhaps, also, the rumor that he was a young man endowed with
extraordinary personal attractions, had exercised its influence upon the
susceptible hearts of the Florentine ladies. Certain it is, that when he
was conducted into the judgment hall, his strikingly handsome
exterior--his air of modest confidence--his graceful gait, and his
youthful appearance, so far threw into the back-ground the crime imputed
to him, that the ladies present felt their sympathies deeply enlisted in
his behalf.
The usher of the tribunal having commanded silence in a loud voice, the
chief judge began the usual interrogatory of the prisoner.
To the questions addressed to him, the accused replied that his name was
Fernand Wagner; that he was a native of Germany; that he had no
profession, avocation nor calling; that he was possessed of a large
fortune; and that having traveled over many parts of the world, he
settled in Florence, where he had hoped to enjoy a tranquil and peaceful
existence.
"The murdered female was reputed to be your sister," said the chief
judge. "Was such the fact?"
"She was a near relative," answered Wagner.
"But was she your sister?" demanded the procurator fiscal.
"She was not."
"Then in what degree of relationship did she stand toward you?" asked
the chief judge.
"I must decline to reply to that question."
"The tribunal infers, therefore, that the murdered female was not
related to you at all," observed the judge. "Was she not your mistress?"
"No, my lord!" cried Wagner, emphatically. "As truly as Heaven now hears
my assertion, it was not so!"
"Was she your wife?" demanded the chief judge.
A negative answer was given.
The chief judge and the procurator fiscal then by turns questioned and
cross-questioned the prisoner in the most subtle manner, to induce him
state the degree of relationship subsisting between himself and Agnes;
but he either refused to respond to their queries, or else answered
direct ones by means of a positive denial.
The lieutenant of the sbirri was at length called upon to give an
account of the discovery of the dead body and the suspicious
circumstances which had led to the arrest of Wagner. Two of these
circumstances appeared to be very strong against him. The first was the
soiled and blood-stained appearance of the garments which were found in
his chamber; the other was the exclamation--"But how know you that it is
Agnes who is murdered?"--uttered before any one had informed who had
been murdered.
Wagner was called upon for an explanation. He stated that he had been
out the whole night; that the blood upon his garments had flowed from
his own body, which had been scratched and torn in the mazes of the
woods; that on his return home he met Agnes in the garden; that he had
left her there; and that he was told a young lady had been assassinated
in the vicinity of his dwelling, he immediately conceived that the
victim must be Agnes.
When questioned concerning the motives of his absence from home during
the entire night he maintained a profound silence; but he was evidently
much agitated and excited by the queries thus put to him. He said
nothing about the stranger-lady who had so frequently terrified Agnes;
because, in relating the proceedings of that mysterious female in
respect to his deceased grand-daughter--especially the incident of the
abstraction of the antique jewels which the late Count of Riverola had
given to her--he would have been compelled to enter into details
concerning the _amour_ between those who were no more. And this subject
he was solicitous to avoid, not only through respect for the memory of
the murdered Agnes, but also to spare the feelings of Count Francisco
and Donna Nisida.
The judges and the procurator fiscal, finding that they could elicit
nothing from Wagner relative to the cause of his absence from home
during the night preceding the murder, passed on to another subject.
"In an apartment belonging to your residence," said the chief judge,
"there are several pictures and portraits."
Wagner turned pale and trembled. The judge made a signal to an officer
of the court, and that functionary quitted the judgment hall. In a few
minutes he returned, followed by three subordinates bearing the two
portraits mentioned in the sixth chapter of this tale, and also the
frame covered over with the large piece of black cloth. On perceiving
this last object, Wagner became paler still, and trembled violently.
"There are six other pictures in the room whence these have been taken,"
said the judge; "but these six are not of a character to interest the
tribunal. We however require explanations concerning the two portraits
and the frame with the black cloth cover now before us."
The greatest excitement at present prevailed amongst the audience.
"On one of the portraits," continued the chief judge, "there is an
inscription to this effect,--_F., Count of A., terminated his career on
the 1st. of August, 1517._--What does this inscription mean?"
"It means that Faust, Count of Aurana, was a nobleman with whom I
traveled during a period of eighteen months," replied Wagner; "and he
died on the day mentioned in that inscription."
"The world has heard strange reports relative to Faust," said the chief
judge, in a cold voice and with unchanged manner, although the mention
of that name had produced a thrill of horror on the part of his brother
judges and the audience. "Art thou aware that rumor ascribes to him a
compact with the Evil One?"
Wagner gazed around him in horrified amazement, for the incident of the
preceding night returned with such force to his mind that he could
scarcely subdue an agonizing ebullition of emotion.
The chief judge next recited the inscription on the other
portrait:--"_F. W. January 7th, 1516. His last day thus._" But Wagner
maintained a profound silence, and neither threats nor entreaties could
induce him to give the least explanation concerning that inscription.
"Let us then proceed to examine this frame with the black cloth cover,"
said the chief judge.
"My lord," whispered one of his brother judges, "in the name of the
Blessed Virgin! have naught more to do with this man. Let him go forth
to execution: he is a monster of atrocity, evidently a murderer,
doubtless leagued with the Evil One, as Faust, of whose acquaintance he
boasts, was before him----"
"For my part, I credit not such idle tales," interrupted the chief
judge, "and it is my determination to sift this matter to the very
foundation. I am rather inclined to believe that the prisoner is allied
with the banditti who infest the republic, than with any preterhuman
powers. His absence from home during the entire night, according to his
own admission, his immense wealth, without any ostensible resources, all
justify my suspicion. Let the case proceed," added the chief judge
aloud; for he had made the previous observations in a low tone. "Usher,
remove the black cloth from the picture!"
"No! no!" exclaimed Wagner, wildly: and he was about to rush from the
dock, but the sbirri held him back. The usher's hand was already on the
black cloth.
"I beseech your lordship to pause!" whispered the assistant judge who
had before spoken.
"Proceed!" exclaimed the presiding functionary in a loud authoritative
tone; for he was a bold and fearless man.
And scarcely were these word uttered, when the black cloth was stripped
from the frame; and the usher who had removed the covering recoiled with
a cry of horror, as his eyes obtained a glimpse of the picture which was
now revealed to view.
"What means this folly?" ejaculated the chief judge. "Bring the picture
hither."
The usher, awed by the manner of this great functionary, raised the
picture in such a way that the judges and the procurator fiscal might
obtain a full view of it.
"A Wehr-Wolf!" ejaculated the assistant judge, who had previously
remonstrated with his superior; and his countenance became pale as
death.
The dreadful words were echoed by other tongues in the court; and a
panic fear seized on all save the chief judge and Wagner himself. The
former smiled contemptuously, the latter had summoned all his courage to
aid him to pass through this terrible ordeal without confirming by his
conduct the dreadful suspicion which had been excited in respect to him.
For, oh! the subject of that picture was indeed awful to contemplate! It
had no inscription, but it represented, with the most painful and
horrifying fidelity, the writhings and agonizing throes of the human
being during the progress of transformation into the lupine monster. The
countenance of the unhappy man had already elongated into one of savage
and brute-like shape; and so admirably had art counterfeited nature,
that the rich garments seemed changed into a rough, shaggy, and wiry
skin! The effect produced by that picture was indeed of thrilling and
appalling interest!
"A Wehr-Wolf!" had exclaimed one of the assistant judges: and while the
voices of several of the male spectators in the body of the court echoed
the words mechanically, the ladies gave vent to screams, as they rushed
toward the doors of the tribunal. In a few moments that part of the
court was entirely cleared.
"Prisoner!" exclaimed the chief judge, "have you ought more to advance
in your defense, relative to the charge of murder?"
"My lord, I am innocent!" said Wagner, firmly but respectfully.
"The tribunal pronounces you guilty!" continued the chief judge: then,
with a scornful smile toward his assistants and the procurator
fiscal--who all three, as well as the sbirri and the officers of the
court were pale and trembling with vague fear--the presiding functionary
continued thus:--"The tribunal condemns you, Fernand Wagner, to death by
the hand of the common headsman; and it is now my duty to name the day
and fix the hour for your execution. Therefore I do ordain that the
sentence just pronounced be carried into effect precisely at the hour of
sunset on the last day of the present month!"
"My lord! my lord!" exclaimed the procurator fiscal; "the belief is that
on the last day of each month, and at the hour of sunset----"
"I am aware of the common superstition," interrupted the chief judge,
coldly and sternly; "and it is to convince the world of the folly of
putting faith in such legends that I have fixed that day and that hour
in the present instance. Away with the prisoner to his dungeon."
And the chief judge waved his hand imperiously, to check any further
attempts at remonstrance; but his assistant functionaries, the
procurator fiscal and the officers of the court, surveyed him with
mingled surprise and awe, uncertain whether they ought to applaud his
courage or tremble at his rashness. Wagner had maintained a calm and
dignified demeanor during the latter portion of the proceedings; and,
although the sbirri who had charge of him ventured not to lay a finger
upon him, he accompanied them back to the prison of the Palazzo del
Podesta.