“Then,” said the judge, “I am the forger. I am the author of the marginal note.”
The Attorney-General.—“What expert was it who said that?”
M. Labori.—“Mon Dieu, Monsieur Attorney-General, his name is not given. But the anecdote is famous. My confrère, M. Hild, who had a case here some time ago, cited it as a classic, and I add that it was welcomed as a classic by the honorable organ of the public ministry.”
The Attorney-General.—“It was one of yours. Then keep him.”
M. Labori.—“One of ours? Let us say, then, that one expert is as good as another; that is all I ask. For my part, I have no need for any of these experts, and I assure you that, in a trial of this character, it is always a joy to provoke any remark whatever from an adversary, especially when it is his habit to be as sparing of his words as you are.
“To continue, gentlemen. I say, then, that, having nothing but this writing to go upon, conviction was impossible, especially as there were two of the five experts who did not attribute the writing to Dreyfus; and I may add that the first expert consulted, who was no other than he who is considered of the highest authority in his science, M. Gobert, expert of the Bank of France, declared, when the bordereau was submitted to him, that it was not in the handwriting of Dreyfus, whereupon the accusers, instead of seeking another traitor, sought another expert, and found him.
“Then, things presenting themselves as they did, acquittal was about to follow, because the members of the council of war, though susceptible of being influenced by the words of a superior, could not, as honest men, convict upon such evidence. Then, gentlemen, there intervened this fact, of which we have already spoken, but which now must be recalled and stated more precisely,—this fact which in itself alone would justify any wrath in a good citizen and the revolt of any conscience,—the fact that, outside of the trial, without the knowledge of the accused or his counsel, and by a violation of one of the most elementary and sacred rules, a document, or documents, as you please, was placed under the eyes of the members of the council. Supposing that they were not so placed,—though they were, as I shall show you,—even had a man’s word guaranteed the existence of such documents before the president of the council of war, who is bound to believe the words of his superior,—even such a declaration would have been enough to secure a conviction illegally and irregularly.
“But the documents were communicated, gentlemen. The fact is established. Let us summarize the proofs.
“In the first place, there is the article that appeared in ‘L’Eclair’ September 15, 1896, which was reproduced everywhere and never contradicted. Then there was a pamphlet spread by thousands of copies, written by Bernard Lazare, in answer to the article, and this pamphlet also has never been contradicted. Several times, and especially on January 9, 1897, ‘L’Echo de Paris’ has spoken, not only of a secret document, but of a secret file of documents, concerning which it has given details, saying that it was called the B file, in contrast to the A file, or judicial file. Then there is the Ravary report, in which this passage occurs:
One evening, when Lieutenant-Colonel Henry, on returning to Paris, suddenly entered M. Picquart’s office, he found M. Leblois, the lawyer, who paid the colonel long and frequent visits, sitting near the desk and searching with him the secret file. A photograph bearing the words ‘That scoundrel D——’ had been taken from the file and spread upon the desk.