The Headsman Or The Abbaye des Vignerons Part 38

"The trial is severe," said the judge, who began to feel compunctions that were rare to one of his habits, "but it is as necessary to your own future peace, as it is to justice itself, that the truth should be known. I am compelled to order thy daughter to advance to the body."

Marguerite received this unexpected command with cold womanly reserve. Too much wounded to complain, but trembling for the conduct of her child, she went to the cl.u.s.ter of females, pressed Christine to her heart, and led her silently forward. She presented her to the chatelain, with a dignity so calm and quiet, that the latter found it oppressive!

"This is Balthazar's child," she said. Then folding her arms, she retired herself a step, an attentive observer of what pa.s.sed.

The judge regarded the sweet pallid face of the trembling girl with an interest he had seldom felt for any who had come before him in the discharge of his unbending duties. He spoke to her kindly, and even encouragingly, placing himself intentionally between her and the dead, momentarily hiding the appalling spectacle from her view, that she might have time to summon her courage. Marguerite blessed him in her heart for this small grace, and was better satisfied.

"Thou wert betrothed to Jacques Colis?" demanded the chatelain, using a gentleness of voice that was singularly in contrast with his former stern interrogatories.

The utmost that Christine could reply was to bow her head.

"Thy nuptials were to take place at the late meeting of the Abbaye des Vignerons--it is our unpleasant duty to wound where we could wish to heal--but thy betrothed refused to redeem his pledge?"

"The heart is weak, and sometimes shrinks from its own good purposes,"

murmured Christine. "He was but human, and he could not withstand the sneers of all about him."

The chatelain was so entranced by her gentle and sweet manner that he leaned forward to listen, lest a syllable of what she whispered might escape his ears.

"Thou acquittest, then, Jacques Colis of any false intention?"

"He was less strong than he believed himself, mein Herr; he was not equal to sharing our disgrace, which was put rudely and too strongly before him."

"Thou hadst consented freely to the marriage thyself, and wert well disposed to become his wife?"

The imploring look and heaving respiration of Christine were lost on the blunted sensibilities of a criminal judge.

"Was the youth dear to thee?" he repeated, without perceiving the wound he was inflicting on female reserve.

Christine shuddered. She was not accustomed to have affections which she considered the most sacred of her short and innocent existence so rudely probed; but, believing that the safety of her father depended on her frankness and sincerity, by an effort that was nearly superhuman, she was enabled to reply. The bright glow that suffused her face, however, proclaimed the power of that sentiment which becomes instinctive to her s.e.x, arraying her features in the l.u.s.tre of maiden shame.

"I was little used to hear words of praise, Herr Chatelain,--and they are so soothing to the ears of the despised! I felt as a girl acknowledges the preference of a youth who is not disagreeable to her. I thought he loved me--and--what would you more, mein Herr?"

"None could hate thee, innocent and abused child!" murmured the Signor Grimaldi.

"You forget that I am Balthazar's daughter, mein Herr; none of our race are viewed with favor."

"Thou, at least, must be an exception!"

"Leaving this aside," continued the chatelain, "I would know if thy parents showed resentment at the misconduct of thy betrothed; whether aught was said in thy presence, that can throw light on this unhappy affair?"

The officer of the Valais turned his head aside; for he met the surprised and displeased glance of the Genoese, whose eye expressed a gentleman's opinion at hearing a child thus questioned in a matter that so nearly touched her father's life. But the look and the improper character of the examination escaped the notice of Christine. She relied with filial confidence on the innocence of the author of her being, and, so far from being shocked, she rejoiced with the simplicity and confidence of the undesigning at being permitted to say anything that might vindicate him in the eyes of his judges.

"Herr Chatelain," she answered eagerly, the blood that had mounted to her cheeks from female weakness, deepening to, and warming, her very temples with a holier sentiment: "Herr Chatelain, we wept together when alone; we prayed for our enemies as for ourselves, but naught was said to the prejudice of poor Jacques--no, not a whisper."

"Wept and prayed!" repeated the judge, looking from the child to the father, in the manner of a man that fancied he did not hear aright.

"I said both, mein Herr; if the former was a weakness, the latter was a duty."

"This is strange language in the mouth of a Leadsman's child!"

Christine appeared at a loss, for a moment, to comprehend his meaning; but, pa.s.sing a hand across her fair brow she continued:

"I think I understand what you would say, mein Herr," she said; "the world believes us to be without feeling and without hope. We are what we seem in the eyes of others because the law makes it so, but we are in our hearts like all around us, Herr Chatelain--with this difference, that, feeling our abas.e.m.e.nt among men, we lean more closely and more affectionately on G.o.d. You may condemn us to do your offices and to bear your dislike, but you cannot rob us of our trust in the justice of heaven. In that, at least, we are the equals of the proudest baron in the cantons!"

"The examination had better rest here," said the prior, advancing with glistening eyes to interpose between the maiden and her interrogator.

"Thou knowest, Herr Bourrit, that we have, other prisoners."

The chatelain, who felt his own practised obduracy of feeling strangely giving way before the innocent and guileless faith of Christine, was not unwilling himself to change the direction of the inquiries. The family of Balthazar was directed to retire, and the attendants were commanded to bring forward Pippo and Conrad.

Chapter XXVIII.

And when thou thus Shalt stand impleaded at the high tribunal Of hoodwink'd Justice, who shall tell thy audit!

Cotton.

The buffoon and the pilgrim, though of a general appearance likely to excite distrust, presented themselves with the confidence and composure of innocence. Their examination was short, for the account they gave of their movements was clear and connected. Circ.u.mstances that were known to the monks, too, greatly aided in producing a conviction that they could have had no agency in the murder. They had left the valley below some hours before the arrival of Jacques Colis, and they reached the convent, weary and foot-sore, as was usual with all who ascended that long and toilsome path, shortly after the commencement of the storm. Measures had been taken by the local authorities, during the time lost in waiting the arrival of the bailiff and the chatelain, to ascertain all the minute facts which it was supposed would be useful in ferreting out the truth; and the results of these inquiries had also been favorable to these itinerants, whose habits of vagabondism might otherwise very justly have brought them within the pale of suspicion.

The flippant Pippo was the princ.i.p.al speaker in the short investigation, and his answers were given with a ready frankness, that, under the circ.u.mstances, did him and his companion infinite service. The buffoon, though accustomed to deception and frauds, had sufficient mother-wit to comprehend the critical position in which he was now placed, and that it was wiser to be sincere, than to attempt effecting his ends by any of the usual means of prevarication. He answered the judge, therefore, with a simplicity which his ordinary pursuits would not have given reason to expect, and apparently with some touches of feeling that did credit to his heart.

"This frankness is thy friend," added the chatelain, after he had nearly exhausted his questions, the answers having convinced him that there was no ground of suspicion, beyond the advent.i.tious circ.u.mstance of their having been travellers on the same road as the deceased; "it has done much towards convincing me of thy innocence, and it is in general the best s.h.i.+eld for those who have committed no crime. I only marvel that one of thy habits should have had the sense to discover it!"

"Suffer me to tell you, Signor Castellano, or Podesta, whichever may be your eccellenza's proper t.i.tle, that you have not given Pippo credit for the wit he really hath. It is true I live by throwing dust into men's eyes, and by making others think the wrong is the right: but mother Nature has given us all an insight into our own interests, and mine is quite clear enough to let me know when the true is better than the false."

"Happy would it be if all had the same faculty and the same disposition to put it in use."

"I shall not presume to teach one as wise and as experienced as yourself, eccellenza, but if an humble man might speak freely in this honorable presence, he would say that it is not common to meet with a fact without finding it a very near neighbor to a lie. They pa.s.s for the wisest and the most virtuous who best know how to mix the two so artfully together, that, like the sweets we put upon healing bitters, the palatable may make the useful go down. Such at least is the opinion of a poor street buffoon, who has no better claim to merit than having learned his art on the Mole and in the Toledo of Bellissima Napoli, which, as everybody knows, is a bit of heaven fallen upon earth!"

The fervor with which Pippo uttered the customary eulogium on the site of the ancient Parthenope was so natural and characteristic as to excite a smile in the judge, in spite of the solemn duty in which he was engaged, and it was believed to be an additional proof of the speaker's innocence.

The chatelain then slowly recapitulated the history of the buffoon and the pilgrim to his companions, the purport of which was as follows.

Pippo naively admitted the debauch at Vevey, implicating the festivities of the day and the known frailty of the flesh as the two influencing causes. Conrad, however, stood upon the purity of his life and the sacred character of his calling, justifying the company he kept on the respectable plea of necessity, and on that of the mortifications to which a pilgrimage should, of right, subject him who undertakes it. They had quitted Vaud together as early as the evening of the day of the abbaye's ceremonies, and, from that time to the moment of their arrival at the convent, had made a diligent use of their legs, in order to cross the Col before the snows should set in and render the pa.s.sage dangerous. They had been seen at Martigny, at Liddes, and St. Pierre, alone and at proper hours, making the best of their way towards the hospice; and, though of necessity their progress and actions, for several hours after quitting the latter place, were not brought within the observation of any but of that all-seeing eye which commands a view of the recesses of the Alps equally with those of more frequented spots, their arrival at the abode of the monks was sufficiently seasonable to give reason to believe that no portion of the intervening time had been wasted by the way. Thus far their account of themselves and their movements was distinct, while, on the other hand, there was not a single fact to implicate either, beyond the suspicion that was more or less common to all who happened to be on the mountain at the moment the crime was committed.

"The innocence of these two men would seem so clear, and their readiness to appear and answer to our questions is so much in their favor," observed the experienced chatelain, "that I do not deem it just to detain them longer. The pilgrim, in particular, has a heavy trust; I understand he performs his penance as much for others as for himself, and it is scarce decent in us, who are believers and servants of the church, to place obstacles in his path. I will suggest the expediency, therefore, of giving him at least permission to depart."

"As we are near the end of the inquiries," interrupted the Signor Grimaldi, gravely, "I would suggest, with due deference to a better opinion and more experience, the propriety that all should remain, ourselves included, until we have come to a better understanding of the truth."

Both Pippo and the pilgrim met this suggestion with ready declarations of their willingness to continue at the convent until the following morning.

This little concession, however, had no great merit, for the lateness of the hour rendered it imprudent to depart immediately; and the; affair was finally settled by ordering them to retire, it being understood that, unless previously called for, they might depart with the reappearance of the dawn. Maso was the next and the last to be examined.

Il Maledetto presented himself with perfect steadiness of nerve. He was accompanied by Nettuno, the mastiffs of the convent having been kennelled for the night. It had been the habit of the dog of late to stray among the rocks by day, and to return to the convent in the evening in quest of food, the sterile St. Bernard possessing nothing whatever for the support of man or beast except that which came from the liberality of the monks, every animal but the chamois and the lammergeyer refusing to ascend so near the region of eternal snows. In his master, however, Nettuno found a steady friend, never failing to receive all that was necessary to his wants from the portion of Maso himself; for the faithful beast was admitted at his periodical visits to the temporary prison in which the latter was confined.

The chatelain waited; a moment for the little stir occasioned by the entrance of the prisoner to subside, when he pursued the inquiry.

"Thou art a Genoese of the name of Thomaso Santi?" he asked, consulting his notes.