“ ‘And yet you will have to see me, sweet brother mine, when I go and ring the bell at the gate of the Carmelite monastery.’
“ ‘If you come I will denounce you.’
“ ‘You will not denounce me, for I know too much about you.’
“ ‘I am not afraid. I have given proofs of my repentance; I have expiated my sins.’
“ ‘Hypocrite!’
“ ‘Come, now, hold your tongue, you madman!’ said the other. ‘I must leave you. There is some money.’
“ ‘That all?’
“ ‘What do you expect from a monk? Do you imagine that I am rich?’
“ ‘Your Carmelites are; and you can do what you like with them.’
“ ‘I might give you more, but I would rather not. As soon as you got a couple of louis you would be off for a debauch, and make enough row to betray yourself.’
“ ‘And if you want me to quit this part of the country for some time, what do you suppose I am to travel with?’
“ ‘Three times already I have given you enough to take you away, haven’t I? And each time you have come back, after drinking it all in the first place of ill-fame on the frontier of the province! Your impudence sickens me, after the evidence given against you, when the police are on the watch, when Bernard is appealing for a fresh trial. You may be caught at any moment!’
“ ‘That is for you to see to, brother. You can lead the Carmelites by the nose; and the Carmelites can lead the bishop, through some little peccadillo, I suppose, done together on the quiet in the convent after supper …’ ”
Here the president interrupted Patience.
“Witness,” he said, “I call you to order. You are outraging a prelate’s virtue by daring to retail such a conversation.”
“By no means,” replied Patience. “I am merely reporting a drunkard’s and a murderer’s invectives against the prelate. They do not concern me in the least; and everyone here knows what value to put upon them; but, if you wish, I will say no more on this point. The discussion lasted for some time longer. The real Trappist wanted to make the sham Trappist leave the country, and the latter persisted in remaining, declaring that, if he were not on the spot, his brother would have him arrested immediately after Bernard’s head had been cut off, so that he might have the whole inheritance to himself. John, driven to extremities, seriously threatened to denounce him and hand him over to justice.
“ ‘Enough!’ replied Antony. ‘You will take good care not to do that, I know; for, if Bernard is acquitted, goodbye to the inheritance!’
“Then they separated. The real Trappist went away looking very anxious; the other fell asleep, with his elbows on the table. I left my hiding-place to take steps for his arrest. It was just then that the police, who had been on my track for some time to force me to come and give evidence, collared me. In vain did I point to the monk as Edmée’s murderer; they would not believe me, and said they had no warrant against him. I wanted to arouse the village, but they prevented me from speaking. They brought me here, from station to station, as if I had been a deserter, and for the last week I have been in the cells and no one has deigned to heed my protests. They would not even let me see M. Bernard’s lawyer, or inform him that I was in prison; it was only just now that the jailer came, and told me that I must put on my coat and appear in court. I do not know whether all this is according to the law; but one thing is certain, namely, that the murderer might have been arrested and has not been; nor will he be, unless you secure the person of John Mauprat to prevent him from warning, I do not say his accomplice, but his protégé. I state on oath that, from all I have heard, John Mauprat is above any suspicion of complicity. As to the act of allowing an innocent man to be handed over to the rigour of the law, and of endeavouring to save a guilty man by going so far as to give false evidence, and produce false documents to prove his death …”
Patience, noticing that the president was again about to interrupt him, hastened to end his testimony by saying:
“As to that, gentlemen, it is for you, not for me, to judge him.”
XXVIII
After this important evidence the trial was suspended for a few minutes. When the judges returned Edmée was brought back into the court. Pale and weak, scarcely able to drag herself to the armchair which was reserved for her, she nevertheless displayed considerable mental vigour and presence of mind.
“Do you think you can answer the questions which will be put to you without unduly exciting yourself?” asked the president.
“I hope so, sir,” she replied. “It is true that I have recently been seriously ill, and that it is only within the last few days that I have recovered my memory; but I believe I have completely recovered it, and my mind feels quite clear.”
“Your name?”
“Solange-Edmonde de Mauprat; Edmea sylvestris,” she added in an undertone.
I shuddered. As she said these unseasonable words her eyes had assumed a strange expression. I feared that her mind was going to wander still further. My counsel was also alarmed and looked at me inquiringly. No one but myself had understood these two words which Edmée had been in the habit of frequently repeating during the first and last days of her illness. Happily this was the last sign of any disturbance in her faculties. She shook her beautiful head, as if to drive out any troublesome ideas; and, the president having asked her for an explanation of these unintelligible words, she replied with sweetness and dignity:
“It is nothing, sir. Please continue my examination.”
“Your age, mademoiselle?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Are you related to the prisoner?”
“He is my second cousin, and my father’s grandnephew.”
“Do
