House of the White Shadows — Book 1, Chapters 14-15
THE EVIDENCE OF WITNESSES
Among the first witnesses called was Heinrich Heitz, a wood-cutter, who had been for some time in partnership with Gautran, and of whom Gautran had denied any knowledge whatever.
On his forehead was the red scar of a wound inflicted some time before.
"Look at the prisoner.
Do you know him?"
"I have reason to."
"His name?"
"Gautran."
"How did he get his living?"
"By wood-cutting."
"You and he were comrades for a time?"
"We were."
"For how long?"
"For three years; we were partners."
"During the time you worked with him, did he know you as Heinrich Heitz?"
"By no other name.
I never bore another."
"Was the partnership an agreeable one?"
"Not to me; it was infernally disagreeable.
I never want another partner like him."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want another savage beast for a partner."
"You did not get along well with him?"
"Quite the reverse."
"For what reasons?"
"Well, for one, I am a hard-working man; he is an indolent bully.
The master he works for once does not want to employ him again.
When we worked together on a task, the profits of which were to be equally divided between us, he shirked his share of the work, and left me to do the lot."
"Did you endeavour to separate from him?"
"I did; and he swore he would murder me; and once, when I was more than usually determined, he marked me on my forehead.
You can see the scar; I shall never get rid of it."
"Did he use a weapon against you?"
"Yes; a knife."
"His temper is ungovernable?"
"He has not the slightest control over it."
"He is a man of great strength?"
"He is very powerful."
"Possessed with an idea which he was determined to carry out, is it likely that anything would soften him?"
"Nothing could soften him."
"How would opposition affect him?"
"It would infuriate him.
I have seen him, when crossed, behave as if he were a mad tiger instead of a human being."
"At such times, would it be likely that he would show any coolness or cunning?"
"He would have no time to think; he would be carried away by his passion."
"You were acquainted with him when he was a lad?"
"I was."
"Was he noted for his cruel disposition in his childhood?"
"He was; it was the common talk."
"Did he take a pleasure in inflicting physical pain upon those weaker than himself?"
"He did."
"And in prolonging that pain?"
"Yes."
"In his paroxysms of fury would not an appeal to his humanity have a softening effect upon him?"
"He has no humanity."
"You were acquainted with Madeline?"
"I was."
"Was she an amiable girl?"
"Most amiable."
"She was very gentle?"
"As gentle as a child."
"But she was capable of being aroused?"
"Of course she was."
"She had many admirers?"
"I have heard so."
"You yourself admired her?"
"I did."
"You made love to her?"
"I suppose I did."
"Did she encourage you?"
"I cannot say she did."
"Did you ever attempt to embrace her?"
The witness did not reply to this question, and upon its being repeated, still preserved silence.
Admonished by the judge, and ordered to reply, he said: "Yes, I have attempted to embrace her."
"On more than one occasion."
"Only on one occasion."
"Did she permit the embrace?"
"No." "She resisted you?"
"Yes."
"There must have been a struggle.
Did she strike you?"
"She scratched my face."
"She resisted you successfully?"
"Yes."
"Gentle as she was, she possessed strength?"
"Oh yes, more than one would have supposed."
"Strength which she would exert to protect herself from insult?"
"Yes."
"Her disposition was a happy one?"
"That was easy to see.
She was always singing to herself, and smiling."
"You believe she was fond of life?"
"Why yes--who is not?"
"And would not have welcomed a violent and sudden death?"
"Certainly not.
What a question!"
"Threatened with such a fate, she would have resisted?"
"Aye, with all her strength.
It would be but natural."
"Knowing Madeline somewhat intimately, you must have known Pauline?"
"Yes, I knew her."
"It is unfortunate and inexplicable that we cannot call her as a witness, and are ignorant of the reason why she left Madeline alone.
Can you furnish any clue, even the slightest, which might enable us to find her?"
"I cannot; I do not know where she has gone."
"Were they sisters, or mother and daughter?"
"I cannot say."
"Do you know where they came from?"
"I do not."
"Reflect.
During your intimacy, was any chance word or remark made by either of the women which, followed up, might furnish the information?"
"I can remember none.
But something was said, a few days before Pauline left, which surprised me."
"Relate it, and do not fear to weary the court.
Omit nothing."
"I made love to Madeline, as I have said, and she did not encourage me.
Then, for perhaps a month or two, I said nothing more to her than good-morning or good-evening.
But afterwards, when I was told that Gautran was following her up, I thought to myself, 'I am better than he; why should I be discouraged because she said "No" to me once?'
Well, then it was that I mustered up courage to speak to Pauline, thinking to win her to my side.
I did not, though.
Pauline was angry and impatient with me, and as much as told me that when Madeline married it would be to a better man than I was.
I was angry, also, because it seemed as if she looked down on me.
'You think she will marry a gentleman,' said I. 'It might be so,' she answered.
'A fine idea that,' said I, 'for a peasant.
But perhaps she isn't a peasant: perhaps she is a lady in disguise.'
I suppose I spoke scornfully, for Pauline fired up, and asked whether Madeline was not good enough, and pretty enough, and gentle enough for a lady; and said, too, that those who believed her to be a peasant might one day find out their mistake.
And then all at once she stopped suddenly, with red fire in her face, and I saw she had said that which she had rather left unspoken."
This last piece of evidence supplied a new feature of interest in the case.
It furnished a clue to a tempting mystery as to the social position of Pauline and Madeline; but it was a clue which could not be followed to a satisfactory result, although another unexpected revelation was made in the course of the trial which appeared to have some connection with it.
Much of the evidence given by Heinrich Heitz was elicited by the Advocate--especially those particulars which related to Gautran's strength and ferocity, and to Madeline's love of life and the way in which she met an insult.
It was not easy to see what good could be done for Gautran by the stress which the Advocate laid upon these points.
Katherine Scherrer was called and examined.
She testified that Gautran had made advances towards her, and had pressed her to become his wife;
that she refused him, and that he threatened her; that as he persisted in following her, her mother had spoken to him, and had warned him, if he did not cease persecuting her daughter, that she would have him beaten.
This evidence was corroborated by Katherine's mother, who testified that she had cautioned Gautran not to persecute Madeline with his attentions and proposals.
Madeline had expressed to both these women her abhorrence of Gautran and her fear of him, but nothing could induce him to relinquish his pursuit of her.
The only evidence elicited from these witnesses by the Advocate related to Gautran's strength and ferocity.
Following Katherine Scherrer and her mother came a witness whose appearance provoked murmurs of compassion.
It was a poor, wretched woman, half demented, who had lived with Gautran in another part of the country, and who had been so brutally treated by him that her reason had become impaired.
If her appearance provoked compassion, the story of her wrongs, as it was skilfully drawn from her by kindly examination, stirred the court into strong indignation, and threw a lurid light upon the character of the man arraigned at the bar of justice.
In the presence of this poor creature the judge interrogated Gautran.
"You denied having ever lived with a woman who should have been your wife.
Do you still deny it?"
"Yes."
"Shameless obstinacy!
Look at this poor woman, whom your cruelty has reduced to a state of imbecility.
Do you not know her?"
"I know nothing of her."
"You never lived with her?"
"Never."
"You will even go so far as to declare that you never saw her before to-day?"
"Yes; I never saw her before to-day."
"To question you farther would be useless.
You have shown yourself in your true colours."
To which Gautran made answer: "I can't help my colours.
They're not of my choosing."
The Widow Joseph was next called.
CHAPTER XV THE WIDOW JOSEPH GIVES EVIDENCE RESPECTING
A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR
The appearance of this woman was looked forward to by the spectators with lively curiosity, and her evidence was listened to with deep attention.
"Your name is Joseph?"
"That was my husband's first name.
While he lived I was known as Mistress Joseph; since his death I have been called the Widow Joseph."
"The poor child, Madeline, and her companion, Pauline, lived in your house?"
"Yes, from the first day they came into this part of the country.
'We have come a great distance,' said Pauline to me, 'and want a room to sleep in.'
I showed her the room, and said it would be twelve francs a month.
She paid me twelve francs, and remained with me till she left to go on a journey."
"Did you ask her where she came from?"
"Yes; and she answered that it was of no consequence."
"Did she pay the rent regularly?"
"Yes; and always without being asked for it."
"Did she tell you she was poor?"
"She said she had but little money."
"Did they have any settled plan of gaining a livelihood?"
"I do not think they had at first.
Pauline asked me whether I thought it likely they could earn a living by selling flowers.
I looked at Madeline, and said that I thought they were certain to do well."
"You looked at Madeline.
Why?"
"She was a very pretty girl."
"And you thought, because she was very pretty, that she would have a greater chance of disposing of her flowers."
"Yes.
Gentlemen like to buy of pretty girls."
"That is not said to Madeline's disparagement?"
"No. Madeline was a good girl.
She was full of gaiety, but it was innocent gaiety."
"What were your impressions of them?
As to their social position?
Did
you believe them to be humbly born?"
"Pauline certainly; she was a peasant the same as myself.
But there was something superior about Madeline which puzzled me."
"How?
In what way?"
"It was only an impression.
Yet there were signs.
Pauline's hands were hard and coarse; and from remarks she made from time to time I knew that she was peasant-born.
Madeline's hands were soft and delicate, and she had not been accustomed to toil, which all peasants are, from their infancy almost."
"From this do you infer that they were not related to each other?"
"I am sure they were related to each other.
Perhaps few had the opportunities of judging as well as I could.
When they were in a quiet mood I have seen expressions upon their faces so exactly alike as to leave no doubt that they were closely related."
"Sisters?"
"I cannot say."
"Or mother and daughter?"
"I wish to tell everything I know, but to say nothing that might be turned into a reproach against them."
"We have every confidence in you.
Judgment can be formed from the bearing of persons towards each other.
Pauline loved Madeline?"
"Devotedly."
"There is a distinctive quality in the attachment of a loving mother for her child which can scarcely be mistaken; it is far different, in certain visible manifestations--especially on occasions where there is any slight disagreement--between sisters.
Distinctive, also, is the tenderness which accompanies the exercise of a mother's authority.
Bearing this in mind, and recalling to the best of your ability those particulars of their intercourse which came within your cognisance, which hypothesis would you be the more ready to believe--that they were sisters or mother and child?"
"That they were mother and child."
"We recognise your anxiety to assist us.
Pauline's hands, you say, were coarse, while Madeline's were soft and delicate.
Ordinarily, a peasant woman brings up her child as a peasant, with no false notions;
in this instance, however, Pauline brought Madeline up with some idea that the young girl was superior to her own station in life.
Else why the unusual care of the child?
Supposing this line of argument to be correct, it appears not to be likely that the attentions of a man like Gautran would be encouraged."
"They were not encouraged."
"Do you know that they were not encouraged from statements made to you by Pauline and Madeline?"
"Yes."
"Then Gautran's declaration that he was Madeline's accepted lover is false?"
"Quite false."
"He speaks falsely when he says that Madeline promised to marry him?"
"It is impossible."
"Four nights before Madeline met her death, was Gautran outside your house?"
"Yes; he was prowling about there with his evil face, for a long time."
"Did you go to him, and ask him what he wanted?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you that he must see Madeline?"
"Yes, and I went into the house, and informed the girl.
She said she would not see him, and I went down to Gautran and told him so.
He then tried to force himself into the house, and I stood in his way.
He struck me, and Madeline, frightened by my cries, ran to the door, and begged him to go away."
"It is a fact that he was often seen in Madeline's company?"
"Yes; do what they would, they could not get rid of him; and they were frightened, if they angered him too much, that he would commit an act of violence."
"As he did?"
"As he did.
It is written on Madeline's grave."
"Had the poor girl any other lovers?"
"None that I should call lovers.
But she was greatly admired."
"Was any one of these lovers especially favoured?"
"Not that I knew of."
"Did any of them visit the house?"
"No--but may I speak?"
"Certainly."
"It was not what I should call a visit.
A gentleman came once to the door, and before I could get there, Pauline was with him.
All that I heard was this: 'It is useless,' Pauline said to him; 'I will not allow you to see her, and if you persecute us with your attentions I will appeal for help to those who will teach you a lesson.'
'What is your objection to me?'
he asked, and he was smiling all the time he spoke.
'Am I not a gentleman?'
'Yes,' she answered; 'and it is because of that, that I will not permit you to address her.
Gentlemen!
I have had enough of gentlemen!'
'You are a foolish woman,' he said, and he went away.
That is all, and that is the only time--except when I saw Pauline in conversation with a man.
He might have been a gentleman, but his clothes were not the clothes of one; neither were they the clothes of a peasant.
They were conversing at a little distance from the house.
I did not hear what they said, not a word, and half an hour afterwards Pauline came home.
There was a look on her face such as I had never observed--a look of triumph and doubt.
But she made no remark to me, nor I to her."
"Where was Madeline at this time?"
"In the house."
"Did you see this man again?"
"A second time, two evenings after.
A third time, within the same week.
He and Pauline spoke together very earnestly, and when anyone approached them always moved out of hearing.
During the second week he came to the house, and inquired for Pauline.
She ran downstairs and accompanied him into the open road.
This occurred to my knowledge five or six times, until Pauline said to me, 'To-morrow I am going on a journey.
Before long I may be able to reward you well for the kindness you have shown us.'
The following day she left, and I have not seen her since."
"Did she say how long she would be likely to be away?"
"I understood not longer than three weeks."
"That time has passed, and still she does not appear.
Since she left, have you seen the man who was so frequently with her?"
"No." "He has not been to the house to make inquiries?"
"No." "Is it not possible that he may have been Pauline's lover?"
"There was nothing of the lover in his manner towards her."
"There was, however, some secret between them?"
"Evidently."
"And Madeline--was she acquainted with it?"
"It is impossible to say."
"You have no reason to suppose, when Pauline went away, that she had no intention of returning?"
"I am positive she intended to return."
"And with good news, for she promised to reward you for your kindness?"
"Yes, she did so."
"Is it not probable that she, also, may have met with foul play?"
"It is probable; but Heaven alone knows!"
CHAPTER XVI