Lanrivain, the next day, hunted out a shabby calf volume from the back
of an upper shelf of his library.
“Yes--here it is. What does it call itself? A History of the Assizes
of the Duchy of Brittany. Quimper, 1702. The book was written about a
hundred years later than the Kerfol affair; but I believe the account
is transcribed pretty literally from the judicial records. Anyhow, it’s
queer reading. And there’s a Herve de Lanrivain mixed up in it--not
exactly MY style, as you’ll see. But then he’s only a collateral. Here,
take the book up to bed with you. I don’t exactly remember the details;
but after you’ve read it I’ll bet anything you’ll leave your light
burning all night!”
I left my light burning all night, as he had predicted; but it was
chiefly because, till near dawn, I was absorbed in my reading. The
account of the trial of Anne de Cornault, wife of the lord of Kerfol,
was long and closely printed. It was, as my friend had said, probably an
almost literal transcription of what took place in the court-room;
and the trial lasted nearly a month. Besides, the type of the book was
detestable...
At first I thought of translating the old record literally. But it
is full of wearisome repetitions, and the main lines of the story are
forever straying off into side issues. So I have tried to disentangle
it, and give it here in a simpler form. At times, however, I have
reverted to the text because no other words could have conveyed so
exactly the sense of what I felt at Kerfol; and nowhere have I added
anything of my own.