all the formalities had not been fulfilled; that sufficient
light had not been thrown on certain points in the
case; that it would be showing too much haste to give
a verdict when several circumstances were still wrapped
in mystery. He demanded that the doctors should
be called to express an opinion as to the possibility
of taking Mademoiselle de Mauprat’s evidence.
He pointed out that the most important, in fact the
only important, testimony was that of Patience, and
that Patience might appear any day and prove me innocent.
Finally, he demanded that they should order a search
to be made for the mendicant friar whose resemblance
to the Mauprats had not yet been explained, and had
been sworn to by trustworthy witnesses. In his
opinion it was essential to discover what had become
of Antony Mauprat, and to call upon the Trappist for
information on this point. He complained bitterly
that they had deprived him of all means of defence
by refusing any delay; and he had the courage to assert
that some evil passions must be responsible for such
blind haste as had marked the conduct of this trial.
On this the president called him to order. Then
the King’s advocate replied triumphantly that
all formalities had been fulfilled; that the court
was sufficiently enlightened; that a search for the
mendicant friar would be a piece of folly and in bad
taste, since John Mauprat had proved his last brother’s
death, which had taken place several years before.
The court retired to deliberate; at the end of half
an hour they came back with a verdict condemning me
to death.
XXVI
Although the haste with which the trial had been conducted
and the severity of the sentence were iniquitous,
and filled those who were most bitter against me with
amazement, I received the blow with supreme indifference;
I no longer felt an interest in anything on earth.
I commended my soul and the vindication of my memory
to God. I said to myself that if Edmee died I
should find her again in a better world; that if she
survived me and recovered her reason, she would one
day succeed in discovering the truth, and that then
I should live in her heart as a dear and tender memory.
Irritable as I am, and always inclined to violence
in the case of anything that is an obstacle or an
offence to me, I am astonished at the philosophical
resignation and the proud calm I have shown on the
momentous occasions of life, and above all on this
one.
It was two o’clock in the morning. The
case had lasted for fourteen hours. A silence
as of death reigned over the court, which was as full
and as attentive as at the beginning, so fond are mortals
of anything in the nature of a show. That offered
by the criminal court at this moment was somewhat
dismal. Those men in red robes, as pale and stern
and implacable as the Council of Ten at Venice; those
ghosts of women decked with flowers, who, by the dim
light of the tapers, looked like mere reflections