(11)
When Laurent was in an argumentative mood he would assert that it was very wrong of M. d'Andigné, even if he were organizing with great secrecy, not so much to have gone about under an assumed name (since under his own he would have been far too dangerous to be left at large) but to have kept up his incognito in front of L'Oiseleur that day at Keraven when Saint-Etienne, being from his own province of Anjou, knew all the time who "M. du Parc" really was. However, he would acknowledge that on this occasion M. d'Andigné made what amends he could by the declaration with which he ended his short and convincing narrative. For he said, with emphasis, that it was he who ought to be exculpating himself. "I ought to have known better what attractions a risk holds for a young and ardent fighter, when I presented M. de la Rocheterie with the idea of the mouse and the two cats, and even illustrated it from a little piece of good fortune of my own in the old days. Had I not been all these weeks, as you know, engaged in military operations elsewhere, I should have heard of Pont-aux-Rochers before, and I could have taken some steps to mitigate the terrible consequences which an ill-timed suggestion of mine has brought on a gallant and honourable man. I am at least thankful that Fate has given me this belated opportunity for testimony."
He sat down again. Aymar, his hands clenched, tried to thank him, but his words were scarcely audible. As for Laurent, he was so radiant that it was all he could do to prevent himself darting forward to his friend, and, though he knew it not, M. d'Andigné, whom little escaped, was smiling at his very patent exultation.
"Well, gentlemen," said Sol de Grisolles, looking round with a satisfied air, "this puts a very different complexion on affairs. I little thought I was summoning the missing witness when I invited M. d'Andigné to attend as an assessor. As the Court has felt all along, the great weakness of M. de la Rocheterie's case has been the lack of conclusive evidence that his plan was already all but settled upon. But now we have impeccable testimony to that fact." He looked round the table once more. "I suggest, therefore . . . Yes, Monsieur de Noirlieu?"
"In spite of what M. le Général d'Andigné has pointed out to us," said that persistent investigator, "there is still one more point which I emphatically feel should be cleared up. What happened after M. de la Rocheterie was found shot, in the—how many weeks was it?—that he was at the château d'Arbelles? Might it not be said that it was because he had rendered a great service to the Imperialists that they rescued him, nursed him, and released him of their own free will . . . that he was, in short, less their prisoner than . . . their guest?"
Laurent, bristling, gave a kind of snort, and Aymar raised his head sharply. D'Andigné's face was a study in expression. The Court themselves seemed a little taken aback, then someone remarked, "Yes, if any evidence is available, it might be as well to know what were M. de la Rocheterie's relations with the Imperialists during his captivity, and the reason for his release."
"Perhaps M. de la Rocheterie will enlighten us," said Sol de Grisolles.
"I can do better, mon Général," responded Aymar rather grimly. "As it happens I can produce two witnesses as to the terms on which I was with the occupants of Arbelles. I will call first M. le Comte de Courtomer, late aide-de-camp to M. d'Autichamp, who was imprisoned in the same room with me for the whole time, excepting the first night. Monsieur de Courtomer!"
At last! Had Laurent not been so furious with M. de Noirlieu at that moment he might have been grateful to him for procuring him this chance. But—Aymar a guest at Arbelles! He could hear for once in his friend's voice his deep and justifiable indignation. But it was M. de Noirlieu who was going to be annoyed before he, Laurent, had finished, for he would look the fool he was.
He was excited but fairly self-possessed as he stood at the little table, and began with reasonable lucidity to tell the story of those weeks at Arbelles. The early days came back to him so clearly as he spoke that, when he got to the happenings of "Friday," the memory of that scene, bubbling up fresh like lava, led him into an account of it more vivid than Aymar appeared to appreciate, as he sat there with his head between his fists, enduring it as best he might.
At any rate, Laurent made abundantly clear the point he had so desired at supper last night to emphasize—that Aymar, fighting with his last conscious breath that nothing should escape his lips, had nearly given his life for his comrade's victory. . . . Du Tremblay had his hand over his eyes as Laurent went on to testify that for the remaining weeks there were no relations whatever between the Bonapartists and their prisoner, and to detail what occurred on Colonel Guitton's return. "And that is how and for what reason," he concluded, "M. de la Rocheterie was released—or, as some might say, turned out—from Arbelles."
"Thank you, Monsieur de Courtomer," said the President out of the ensuing silence, and Laurent turned and went to his place. He had not been asked a single question; and, as nobody seemed disposed to put one, Aymar observed that, since this evidence did not cover the first hours of his sojourn at Arbelles, and it might be supposed that he had had friendly relations with the Bonapartists on the day of his arrival, if on no other, he would call the doctor who attended him to prove that that was impossible.
M. Perrelet, looking very rotund as he stood forth, was extremely business-like and medical. He described in technical language M. de la Rocheterie's very critical condition when he was summoned to him, and during the whole of that first night; while Laurent behind whispered delightedly to de Fresne, "That will knock that idiot into a cocked hat! Listen to the long words and the Latin rolling out!"
"My patient," pronounced the little doctor, "was profoundly unconscious from the moment of his arrival. In any case a man so near death as he from haemorrhage is not capable of having relations with any one, friend or foe. . . . And since I am here," he went on unasked, but unchecked, "you will like to know, gentlemen, that I can more than corroborate what M. de Courtomer has said of the disastrous effects of Colonel Guitton's inquisition a few days later. As to the turning out, which was done in my absence, I was thunderstruck when I heard of it, and not in the least surprised that in consequence I had to attend M. de la Rocheterie for a threatened attack of pneumonia. He had a very narrow escape of it. Hardly the treatment, altogether, that one accords to a 'guest'!"
M. de Noirlieu, to Laurent's joy, was looking sour enough now. He fidgeted with some papers for an instant and then said: "Yes, that's very convincing—medically. One cannot argue with a doctor. . . . You were not present, I understand, at the interview with the Colonel over those cipher notes?"
"No, but I came in the moment afterwards, to find M. de la Rocheterie almost in extremis," replied M. Perrelet rather snappily.
"I should like M. de Courtomer recalled," said M. de Noirlieu.
Laurent came back, full of fight, but wondering what the stout imbecile wanted now.
"M. de la Rocheterie was, I presume, aware of your presence in the room, Monsieur de Courtomer, throughout this . . . unpleasant scene with the Colonel?"
"I should imagine he had something else to think about!" retorted Laurent with hostility. In a flash he saw what he was after—the man was a second Guitton!
"He must have known that you were present. Did you, Monsieur de la Rocheterie?"
"I did," said Aymar curtly.
"And you were aware that he was a Royalist officer—one of your own side?"
"I was aware of it."
M. de Noirlieu lifted his shoulders. "I think, gentlemen, that significant fact considerably detracts from the value of M. de la Rocheterie's refusal to give information—viewed as evidence to character, that is. Is it likely that he would have given it in front of a fellow-officer?"
"May I speak, Monsieur le Président?" burst out the witness.
Sol de Grisolles nodded.
"That—that . . ." (he managed to swallow the qualification) "point of view was precisely Colonel Guitton's when he had failed. I should have thought that this Court . . ." (again he struggled with himself and abandoned the sentence). "Gentlemen, as this last interpretation has been launched, you ought in justice to know that when, later on, Colonel Guitton—for it was by his connivance—resorted to other means to make M. de la Rocheterie betray a comrade, and there was nobody there but the——"
Aymar made a little gesture, and said in a low, quick voice, "For Heaven's sake, stop, Laurent! That is not relevant!"
But Laurent took no notice, and went on as fast as he could, "—He opposed precisely the same refusal to that different method. You see, mon Général, I was safely hidden, but when the search-party found M. de la Rocheterie ill at the farm——"
He was interrupted again. "One moment, please," said the Marquis de la Boëssière. "This is a little too elliptical for us to follow. Are we to understand that you were released at the same time as M. de la Rocheterie, or what?"
And Aymar seized the opportunity to rise and say with authority, "That will do, thank you, Monsieur de Courtomer. We need not trouble the Court with totally irrelevant matter. You can stand down."
But a distinct murmur of "No, no!" went round. Laurent glanced at Aymar; he meant what he said, no doubt of it. Then he hesitated and looked at the tribunal.
"—But we should like to hear it, irrelevant or no," said the President.
Aymar was obliged to give in. He sat down. Laurent did not look at him. He answered the previous question. "No, I was not released, sir. I escaped the same evening and joined M. de la Rocheterie. We went to a farm, and, as you have heard, he was ill from the exposure, and it was then that a party from the château came to search for me; and when they could not find me, but had M. de la Rocheterie at their mercy, alone, they tried just as vainly to make him betray me by——"
But here Laurent came to an abrupt stop.
"Well, Monsieur de Courtomer?" asked the President after a moment.
Awful and surprising finish! Laurent had so ached to tell this story of heroism and endurance, and now he could not. His own sensations of the time came back too vividly, and closed up his throat, precluding speech. Besides, his tongue did not seem able to find a way of uttering the thing. He stood there, mute and agonized, with everyone—save Aymar—gazing at him.
"Do you mean that they threatened him?" suggested the Marquis de la Boëssière.
And as the hitherto voluble witness shook his head he said almost impatiently,
"What were the means they used, then?"
At that Laurent managed—but only just—to bring it out.
"They used . . . a red-hot ramrod!" he gasped; and fled the table.