These fine young men, defending themselves against death on the scaffold, not against a soldier's death before the guns--who asked the death they claimed to have merited as insurrectionists, but a death of honor--formed a splendid spectacle of youth, courage, and gallant bearing.
The judges saw plainly that on the accusation of being insurrectionists, the Vendee having submitted and Brittany being pacificated, they would have to be acquitted. That was not a result to satisfy the minister of police. Death awarded by a council of war would not have satisfied him; he had determined that these men should die the death of malefactors, a death of infamy.
The trial had now lasted three days without proceeding in the direction of the minister's wishes. Charlotte, who could reach the courtroom through the prison, was there each day, and returned each night to Amelie with some fresh word of hope. On the fourth day, Amelie could bear the suspense no longer. She dressed herself in a costume similar to the one that Charlotte wore, except that the black lace of the head-dress was longer and thicker than is usual with the Bressan peasant woman. It formed a veil and completely hid her features.
Charlotte presented Amelie to her father as one of her friends who was anxious to see the trial. The good man did not recognize Mademoiselle de Montrevel, and in order to enable the young girls to see the prisoners well he placed them in the doorway of the porter's room, which opened upon the passage leading to the courtroom. This passage was so narrow at this particular point that the four gendarmes who accompanied the prisoners changed the line of march. First came two officers, then the prisoners one by one, then the other two officers. The girls stood in the doorway.
When Amelie heard the doors open she was obliged to lean upon Charlotte's shoulder for support, the earth seemed to give way under her feet and the wall at her back. She heard the sound of feet and the rattle of the gendarmes' sabres, then the door of the prison opened.
First one gendarme appeared, then another, then Sainte-Hermine, walking first, as though he were still Morgan, the captain of the Companions of Jehu.
As he passed Amelie murmured: "Charles!"
The prisoner recognized the beloved voice, gave a faint cry, and felt a paper slip into his hand. He pressed that precious hand, murmured her name, and passed on.
The others who followed did not, or pretended not to, notice the two girls. As for the gendarmes, they had seen and heard nothing.
As soon as the party stepped into the light, Morgan unfolded the note and read as follows:
Do not be anxious, my beloved Charles; I am and ever will be your faithful Amelie, in life or death. I have told all to Lord Tanlay. He is the most generous man on earth; he has promised me to break off the marriage and to take the whole responsibility on himself. I love you.
Morgan kissed the note and put it in his breast. Then he glanced down the corridor and saw the two Bressan women leaning against the door.
Amelie had risked all to see him once more. It is true, however, that at this last session of the court no additional witnesses were expected who could injure the accused, and in the absence of proof it was impossible to convict them.
The best lawyers in the department, those of Lyons and Besancon, had been retained by the prisoners for their defence. Each had spoken in turn, destroying bit by bit the indictment, as, in the tournaments of the Middle Ages, a strong and dexterous knight was wont to knock off, piece by piece, his adversary's armor. Flattering applause had followed the more remarkable points of their arguments, in spite of the usher's warnings and the admonitions of the judge.
Amelie, with clasped hands, was thanking God, who had so visibly manifested Himself in the prisoners' favor. A dreadful weight was lifted from her tortured breast. She breathed with joy, and looked through tears of gratitude at the Christ which hung above the judge's head.
The arguments were all made, and the case about to be closed. Suddenly an usher entered the courtroom, approached the judge, and whispered something in his ear.
"Gentlemen," said the judge, "the court is adjourned for a time. Let the prisoners be taken out."
There was a movement of feverish anxiety among the audience. What could have happened? What unexpected event was about to take place? Every one looked anxiously at his neighbor. Amelie's heart was wrung by a presentiment. She pressed her hand to her breast; it was as though an ice-cold iron had pierced it to the springs of life.
The gendarmes rose. The prisoners did likewise, and were then marched back to their cells. One after the other they passed Amelie. The hands of the lovers touched each other; those of Amelie were as cold as death.
"Whatever happens, thank you," said Charles, as he passed.
Amelie tried to answer, but the words died on her lips.
During this time the judge had risen and passed into the council-chamber. There he found a veiled woman, who had just descended from a carriage at the door of the courthouse, and had not spoken to any one on her way in.
"Madame," said the judge, "I offer you many excuses for the way in which I have brought you from Paris; but the life of a man depends upon it, and before that consideration everything must yield."
"You have no need to excuse yourself, sir," replied the veiled lady, "I know the prerogatives of the law, and I am here at your orders."
"Madame," said the judge, "the court and myself recognize the feeling of delicacy which prompted you, when first confronted with the prisoners, to decline to recognize the one who assisted you when fainting. At that time the prisoners denied their identity with the pillagers of the diligences. Since then they have confessed all; but it is our wish to know the one who showed you that consideration, in order that we may recommend him to the First Consul's clemency."
"What!" exclaimed the lady, "have they really confessed?"
"Yes, madame, but they will not say which of their number helped you, fearing, no doubt, to contradict your testimony, and thus cause you embarrassment."
"What is it you request of me, sir?"
"That you will save the gentleman who assisted you."
"Oh! willingly," said the lady, rising; "what am I to do?"
"Answer a question which I shall ask you."
"I am ready, sir."
"Wait here a moment. You will be sent for presently."
The judge went back into the courtroom. A gendarme was placed at each door to prevent any one from approaching the lady. The judge resumed his seat.
"Gentlemen," said he, "the session is reopened."
General excitement prevailed. The ushers called for silence, and silence was restored.
"Bring in the witness," said the judge.
An usher opened the door of the council-chamber, and the lady, still veiled, was brought into court. All eyes turned upon her. Who was she?
Why was she there? What had she come for? Amelie's eyes fastened upon her at once.
"O my God!" she murmured, "grant that I be mistaken."
"Madame," said the judge, "the prisoners are about to be brought in.
Have the goodness to point out the one who, when the Geneva diligence was stopped, paid you those attentions."
A shudder ran through the audience. They felt that some fatal trap had been laid for the prisoners.
A dozen voices began to shout: "Say nothing!" but the ushers, at a sign from the judge, cried out imperatively: "Silence!"
Amelie's heart turned deadly cold. A cold sweat poured from her forehead. Her knees gave way and trembled under her.
"Bring in the prisoners," said the judge, imposing silence by a look as the usher had with his voice. "And you, madame, have the goodness to advance and raise your veil."
The veiled lady obeyed.
"My mother!" cried Amelie, but in a voice so choked that only those near her heard the words.
"Madame de Montrevel!" murmured the audience.
At that moment the first gendarme appeared at the door, then the second.
After him came the prisoners, but not in the same order as before.
Morgan had placed himself third, so that, separated as he was from the gendarmes by Montbar and Adler in front and d'Assas behind, he might be better able to clasp Amelie's hand.