Wood Rangers Part 57

Society has provided laws for the protection of all men. The man who amongst us should a.s.sume the right of judgment, and take the law into his own hands, would thus violate it, and fall under the jurisdiction of those whom society has appointed to try, and to condemn.

We are not without a hope that at some future time, as civilisation advances, men will allow that they who deprive a culprit of that life which none can recall, commit an act of sacrilege in defiance of those divine laws which govern the universe and take precedence of all human decrees.

A time will come, we would fain believe, when our laws may spare the life of a guilty man, and suffer him to atone for his errors or his crimes by repentance. Such a law would respect the life which can never be restored; and while another exists which casts an irretrievable stain upon our honour, there would be a law of restoration capable of raising the man sanctified by repentance to the dignity which punishment would have prevented his attaining.

"There is more joy in heaven," says the gospel, "over a sinner who repents, than a righteous man made perfect." Why then are not human laws a counterpart of these divine decrees?

Now, however, liberty is the only boon which society confers upon him whose misfortunes or whose crimes have deprived him of it.

Misfortunes did we not say? Is there not in truth a law which a.s.similates the criminal with the upright though insolvent debtor, and compels him to the same fate in prison?

So much for this subject. Let us now return to the lynch law of the desert. It was before a tribunal without appeal, and in the presence of self-const.i.tuted judges, that Don Antonio de Mediana was about to appear. A court a.s.sembled in a city, with all its imposing adjuncts, could not have surpa.s.sed in solemnity the a.s.sizes which at this moment were convoked in the desert, where three men represented human justice armed with all its terrors!

We have described the singular and fantastic aspect presented by the spot, in which this scene was to be enacted. In truth, the sombre mountains, veiled in mist, the mysterious subterranean sounds, the long tufts of human hair agitated by every breath of wind, the skeleton of the Indian horse exposed to view, all combined to endue the place with a strange unearthly appearance in the eyes of the prisoner, so that he almost believed himself under the influence of some horrible dream.

One might have imagined himself suddenly transported into the middle ages, in the midst of some secret society, where previous to the admission of the candidate, were displayed all the terrors of the earth, as a means of proving his courage.

All this however was here a fearful reality.

Fabian pointed out to the Duke de Armada, one of the flat stones, resembling tombstones, which were strewed over the plain, and seated himself upon another so as to form with the Canadian and his companion a triangle, in which he occupied the most prominent position.

"It is not becoming for the criminal to sit in the presence of the judges," said the Spanish n.o.ble, with a bitter smile, "I shall therefore remain standing."

Fabian made no reply.

He waited until Diaz, the only disinterested witness in this court of justice, had chosen a convenient place.

The adventurer remained at some distance from the actors in the scene, yet sufficiently near to see and hear all that pa.s.sed.

Fabian began:

"You are about to be told," said he, "of what crime you are accused.

You are to look upon me as the judge who presides at your trial, and who will either condemn or acquit you."

Having thus spoken he paused to consider.

"It will first be necessary to establish the ident.i.ty of the criminal.

Are you in truth," he continued, "that Don Antonio, whom men here call the Count de Mediana?"

"No," replied the Spaniard in a firm voice.

"Who are you then?" continued Fabian, in a mingled tone of astonishment and regret, for he repudiated the idea that a Mediana would have recourse to a cowardly subterfuge.

"I _was_ the Count de Mediana," replied the prisoner, with a haughty smile, "until by my sword I acquired other t.i.tles. At present I am known in Spain as the Duke de Armada. It is the name I shall transmit to the descendant of my line, whom I may choose as my adopted son."

The latter phrase, incidentally spoken by the prisoner, proved in the sequel his sole means of defence.

"Right," said Fabian, "the Duke de Armada shall hear of what crime Don Antonio de Mediana is accused. Speak Bois-Rose! tell us what you know, and nothing more."

The rough and energetic countenance of the gigantic descendant of the Norman race, as he stood motionless beside them, his carbine supported on his broad shoulder, was expressive of such calm integrity, that his appearance alone banished all idea of perjury. Bois-Rose drew himself up, slowly removed his fur cap, and in doing so discovered his fine open brow to the gaze of all.

"I will only speak of what I know," said he.

"On a foggy night, in the month of November, 1808, I was a sailor on board a French smuggling-vessel called the Albatros.

"We had landed according to a plan formed with the captain of the carabiniers of Elanchovi, on the coast of the Bay of Biscay. I will not relate to you," and here Pepe could not repress a smile, "how we were fired upon, and repulsed from the sh.o.r.e where we had landed as friends.

It is sufficient for you to know that when we again reached our vessel, I was attracted by the screams of a child, which seemed to come from the depths of the ocean.

"These cries proceeded from a boat which had been abandoned.

"I pushed out towards it at the risk of my own life, since a brisk fire was opened upon our s.h.i.+p.

"In this boat I found a lady murdered, and lying in her blood. She was quite dead, and close to her was a little child who appeared to be dying.

"I picked up the child--that child is now the man before us; his name is Fabian.

"I took the child with me, and left the murdered lady in the boat. I do not know who committed the crime, and have nothing further to say."

As he finished speaking, Bois-Rose again covered his head, and seated himself in silence.

A mournful silence followed this declaration.

Fabian lowered his flas.h.i.+ng eyes for an instant to the ground, then raised them, calm and cold, to the face of the ex-carabinier, whose turn had now come to speak.

Fabian was prepared to act his terrible part, and the countenance as well as the att.i.tude of the young man, though clothed in rags, expressed the n.o.bility which characterised an ancient race, as well as the collected coolness of a judge. He cast an authoritative glance towards Pepe, and the half savage trapper was compelled to submit to it in silence.

Pepe at length rose, and advanced a few paces, by his manner showing a determination only to utter that which his conscience approved.

"I understand you, Count Mediana," said he, addressing himself to Fabian, who alone in his eyes had the right to a.s.sume this t.i.tle. "I will try to forget that the man here present is the same who caused me to spend so many long years among the refuse of mankind at Ceuta. When I appear before G.o.d He may require of me the words I have spoken, but I should again repeat them, nor regret that they had ever been uttered."

Fabian made a gesture of approbation.

"One night in the month of November, 1808," said he, "when I belonged to the Royal Carabiniers in the service of Spain, I was on duty upon the coast of Elanchovi, where three men disembarked from the open sea upon the beach.

"Our captain had sold to one of them the right of landing in a forbidden spot.

"I reproach myself with having been this man's accomplice, and receiving from him the price of culpable neglect of my duty.

"The following day it was discovered that the Countess Mediana and her young son had left the castle during the night.

"The Countess was murdered--the young Count was never seen again.

"A short time after, his uncle appeared at Elanchovi and claimed his nephew's fortune and t.i.tles. All was given up to him, and I, who believed that I had only sold my services to favour an intrigue or an affair of smuggling, found that I had been the accomplice of a murderer.

"I upbraided the present Count Mediana before witnesses, and accused him of this crime. Five years' imprisonment at Ceuta was the reward of my presumption.

"Here before another and more righteous tribunal, and in the presence of G.o.d who is my witness, I again accuse the man before me. I declare him to be the murderer of the Countess, and the usurper of her son's t.i.tles.

He was one of the three men, who, during the night entered by escalade the chateau which Don Fabian's mother never again beheld.