Chapter 26 twenty four

I was immediately sent to the Chartres Prison.The magistrate of Issoudun, in charge of the murder of Mademoiselle de Mauprat, was allowed to issue an order of prosecution the next day.He went to the village of St. Sever in person, and listened to the statements of more than thirty witnesses in the farms around the Jura woods where the case occurred.A week after my arrest, a warrant was issued to me.If I hadn't been so distraught, and if someone cared about me, then this violation of the law, and many others that occurred during the trial, would have been adjudged in my favor as a strong argument that this time The prosecution was run by a certain force of hate.Throughout the course of the proceedings an invisible hand directed everything with the utmost ruthlessness and swiftness.

In the first interrogation only one charge was brought against me, that of Miss LeBlanc.All the hunters professed ignorance, and saw no reason to regard the accident as murder.But Miss Leblanc resented some of the jokes I took the liberty of telling her, and she had been bought, as I later learned; Fever and rational, while exhorting her to keep her secret, she told me that I had insulted, threatened, dragged off my horse, and finally shot me.The villain collects the leaked material during Edmee's fever, weaves it quite deftly into a complete story, and embellishes it as best she can, inspired by hate.She twisted the slurs and delirious impressions of her mistress, and swore that Edmee had seen me point the carbine at her and say: "I promise, you will die only by my hands."

St. John, arraigned the same day, declared to know nothing but what Miss LeBlanc had told him that night; his statement was in full agreement with Miss LeBlanc's testimony.St. John was a decent man, but cold and dull.In a penchant for exactness, he did not omit any useless detail that might be twisted and turned against me.He asserts that I have always been a queer, befuddled, wayward creature; I was so bad-tempered, Junkie, that I was "likely to grab anything and throw it at a man's head, though I had never actually done anything of the sort, so far as he knew."This is the testimony that often makes the difference between life and death in criminal cases.

Patience was missing on the day of the investigation.The abbe declared that his views on the incident were so vague that he would rather bear all the penalties of the obstinate witnesses than express himself until he had more information.He begged the magistrate to give him time, pledged his honor, and promised not to evade the prosecution of the judiciary, and after a few days, by examining the matter, he could gain some confidence; in this case, he promised to express his position clearly , or defend me, or bring charges against me.This term is approved. Marcas merely said that even if I had shot Mademoiselle de Mauprat—which he was beginning to doubt very much—at least I hadn't done it on purpose.He staked his reputation and his life on this claim.

This is the result of the first interrogation.Subsequent interrogations continued on various dates.Several false witnesses asserted that they had seen me attempt to make Mademoiselle de Mauprat yield to my desires, and had shot her after I had failed. One of the most pernicious measures of the old procedure was the so-called writ of prosecution.It is a kind of proclamation by way of homily, issued by the bishop, and all parish priests address the inhabitants of their respective parishes, ordering them to pursue the crimes announced, and to expose all relevant facts known to them.This measure is a mild reflection of the principles of the Inquisition that have prevailed more openly elsewhere.The writ of indictment was intended to perpetuate the spirit of the whistleblower in the name of religion, and is therefore, for the most part, a masterpiece of uncanny cruelty, often announcing the presumed crime and what the prejudiced accuser needs to prove. All imaginary plots.It's a pre-themed proclamation whereby the first scoundrel can make some money by giving a false testimony to the benefit of the highest bidder....It is inevitable when a criminal prosecution order is unfairly drafted The consequence is to incite public hatred against the accused.Especially religious ones, who took ready-made advice from priests, fanatically tormented their victims.This is what happened to me, especially since the provincial priest played another secret role which almost sealed my fate.

The case was sent to the Criminal Court of the Superior Court of Bourges, and within a few days there was a preliminary hearing. You may imagine the bleak desperation which tormented me then.Edmee's health was getting worse and worse, and she had lost all reason.I don't worry about the outcome of the trial, and I don't think I'll be forced upon me for a crime I didn't commit; but if Edmee fails to regain her powers and admit my innocence to my face, honor and life will What's the point of me?I see her as dead, dead while cursing me!Therefore, I have made up my mind to commit suicide immediately after the verdict, whatever the verdict.I forced myself to live until then as a duty to do what was necessary for the truth to prevail; but I fell into a state of complete insensitivity without even asking what needed to be done.Without the wit and zeal of my lawyer, without the sublime fidelity of Marcus, my negligence almost brought me to the most disastrous end.

Marcas runs for me every day and does his best.In the evening he came to my cot and lay down on a bale of straw.He visited Edmee and my uncle every day, and told me first of them, and then of the results of his activities.I shook his hand affectionately, but was usually too absorbed in what he had just said about Edmee to listen to anything else. The Prison of Chartres, formerly the fortress of the provincial lord Helwan de Lombeau's family, was now mostly in ruins, except for a formidable square tower, blackened with age, standing on the rock behind a ravine. superior.The province of Indre forms a narrow, winding valley in ravines, filled with the most beautiful vegetation.The weather is excellent.My cell is at the top of the tower, receiving the rays of the rising sun.The sun cast three rows of slender poplars.Huge shadows, and stretched them all the way to the far horizon.A more beautiful, bright, idyllic scene has never been presented to a prisoner's eyes; but how can I have the heart to find pleasure in it?The cracks in the walls grow fragrant violets, and any breeze blows is like a damning insult to me.Every rural sound, every bagpipe tune that reached my ears seemed to contain an insult, or signify a deep contempt for my pain.Nothing, not even the bleating of the sheep, seemed to me to be a sign of forgetfulness or indifference.

For some time Marcus had had the persistent idea that Edmee had been murdered by John de Mauprat.It is possible; but since there is no evidence to support such a supposition, I have refrained him from speaking of him.I don't like sacrificing others to prove my innocence.Although John de Mauprat could do anything, the idea of ​​committing such a crime probably never occurred to him.I have not heard of him for more than six weeks, and it seems to me shameful to accuse him.I hold to the belief that one of the hunters on the drive accidentally shot Edmee, and that fear and shame prevented him from admitting his fault.Marcus took courage to look at all those who had participated in the hunt, and with all the eloquence God had given him, begged them not to fear the punishment of manslaughter, and not let an innocent person bear the responsibility for them.All this running around came to no avail.None of the hunter's replies gave my poor friend hope of unraveling the mystery that hangs over us.

I was deported to Bourges, and thrown into a castle which had belonged to the successive Dukes of Berry, and which served as my prison ever since.It was a great pain for me to be parted from my faithful sergeant.He would have been permitted to follow me; but he feared that he should soon be arrested at the behest of my enemies (he firmly believed that I was the victim of a conspiracy), and that would not be able to rescue me.So, as long as they "didn't get him," he would lose no time in pursuing the culprit. Two days after my imprisonment at Bourges, Marcus presented a document, drawn up at his request by two of Chateau's lawyers.The document contained the testimony of ten witnesses who unanimously confirmed that, before the shooting, there was a dervish who was wandering around Varenna every day and was present at several places in close proximity; Notre Dame de Lini for the night.Marcus identified the monk as John de Maupra.Two women said they believed they recognized the dervish, either John or Gaucher de Maupra, who closely resembled John.But this Goucher was drowned in a pond the day after the keep was taken, and on the day Edmee was shot, all the inhabitants of Chartres saw the ascetic with Garmer from morning to night. The abbot of the Luo Hui was together to preside over the rites for the pilgrimage procession of Wodwang, so these testimonies, far from being in my favor, had a very bad effect and discredited my defense.The Penitentiary successfully had his alibi proved; the Abbess backed him up by calling me a shameless wretch.For John de Maupra, this was his moment of triumph.He declared aloud that he had come to surrender to his old judges, and to receive punishment for his past wrongs; but no one would approve of the prosecution of such a saint.He excited such a cult in our most pious province that no judge dared to offend public opinion by punishing him severely.In his own testimony, Marcus spoke of the mysterious and inexplicable appearance of the Penitentiary at Maupra Rock, and of the actions he had taken to gain access to Mr. Bell and his daughter by insolently breaking into them all the way. and the efforts of the Carmelite Abbot to extort huge sums of money from me for this man.All these testimonies were dismissed as nonsense; for Marcus confessed not to have been an eyewitness to any appearance of the Penitentiary, nor could either the knight or his daughter.It is true that my replies to various questions corroborate these statements; but since I declare in all sincerity that for two months the Penitents have given me no cause for uneasiness or dissatisfaction, and since I refuse to impute to this murder To him, it seemed that within a few days, the ascetics would be permanently restored to public opinion.My lack of hostility towards him, however, did not lessen the hostility of the judges towards me.They took advantage of the arbitrary powers that magistrates, especially in remote parts of the province, had in the old days, and robbed my lawyers of their ability to do their work.Several people in robes whose names I do not wish to name even publicly abused me wantonly and denied human dignity and morality in court.They tricked me into making a confession, and almost promised a verdict in my favour, if I at least admitted that I had accidentally injured Mademoiselle de Mauprat.My contempt for their proposal finally aroused their hostility.I will not ask for any intrigues, and in an age when justice and truth cannot prevail without intrigues, I am the victim of two dreadful enemies—priests and judges; The former was offended, and I was hated by the latter because Edmee had rejected suitors, the most vengeful of whom were related to the leading men in the Court of Justice.

However, there are a few honest people I hardly know, who can't understand others trying to make me bad, and care about my fate.Among them there was no lack of influence, Mr. E., brother of the governor, acquainted with all the deputies, and helped me by giving me some excellent advice in bringing to light the truth of this perplexing case. Convinced of my guilt, Patience would have unwittingly supported my enemies, but he would not.He lived a wandering life in the forest again, and although he did not hide, he could not be caught.Markas was deeply disturbed by Patience's intentions and could not understand his actions.The mounted police were furious to see an old man who ignored them within a few yards.I think that, with the experience and constitution of the old man, he could live in Varenna for many years without falling into their hands, and without even feeling compelled to surrender, whereas the weariness and fear of solitude so often arouse in some great criminals The need to surrender.