“They speak to the king about the affair; they tell him that a nobleman of his court was found buried, victim of an unknown assassin; they further inform him that the dead man’s dog, with indomitable persistence, springs at the Chevalier Macaire every time it sees him. The king has the suspected person brought before him and orders him to remain hidden in the midst of a throng of other bystanders. Then the dog is brought in. Its sense of smell immediately warns it of the presence of the murderer. With its accustomed fury it spots its victim in the crowd and springs at him. As if reassured by the king’s presence, it attacks with more boldness than ever, and by its plaintive barks seems to ask that justice be done it. There is hasty intervention, without which Macaire would be devoured by the animal.”
“And it would have served him right.” [[232]]
“Wait: punishment will come. The dog’s strange conduct, together with other suspicious circumstances, had made an impression on the king. Some days later Charles V had Macaire appear before him and pressed him by his questions to confess the truth. What foundation was there for the suspicions current in regard to him? How explain, if he were not guilty, the dog’s repeated attacks and furious barking at sight of him? Seized with the fear of a shameful punishment, Macaire obstinately denied the crime.
“At this epoch, characterized by manners and customs little above barbarism, when the accuser affirmed and the accused denied, with no sufficient proof on either side, it was customary to decide the question by a mortal combat between the two. The one that succumbed was held to be in the wrong.”
“But to be the weaker proves nothing against right,” objected Jules. “One might be a thousand times right and yet be beaten by one’s adversary.”
“That is undeniably true, and I hope you will from day to day become more firmly convinced of this noble truth. In our lamentable age—you will learn this later, my friend—in our lamentable age it is a current maxim, a maxim of savagery, that might makes right! In the days of Charles V, rude as that period was, no one would have dared to say such a horrible thing; but nevertheless, under the influence of superstition, men really believed that the vanquished was in the wrong, because, they maintained, right can never succumb, upheld as it [[233]]is by God. Therefore a judicial combat was called a judgment of God. Alas, alas, my friend, how far they were from sanity of mind! How far from it we ourselves are, with our duel, relic of ancient barbarism! What does a well-directed shot prove in favor of him who pulled the trigger? Nothing, unless it be that he is more adept in the use of firearms than his adversary, or that chance has been on his side. Thus it is, however, that men decide disputes involving our most precious possession, honor.
“The king, then, ordered the affair to be brought to an end and the truth determined by a combat between the man and the dog. A large field was laid out with seats for the king, all his court, and a numerous company besides. In the middle of the field were the two champions—the man with a large and heavy stick, the dog with the weapons that nature had given it, and with nothing but a leaky cask for a refuge and a sally-port.”
“This cask was to serve it as shelter against the blows of the stick?” asked Emile.
“It was the citadel where, if the attack became too pressing, it could take refuge in order to escape the cudgel’s blows. But the brave animal did not once make use of it. As soon as it was let loose it rushed at Macaire. But the nobleman’s stick was big enough to fell his adversary with a single blow; so the dog began to run this way and that around the man to avoid the crushing descent of the club. Then, seizing its opportunity, with one bound it jumped at its enemy’s throat and gripped it so [[234]]firmly as to throw Macaire over backward. Half strangled, he cried for pity and begged to be freed from the animal, promising to confess everything. The guards drew off the dog and, the judges approaching by royal command, Macaire confessed his crime to them.”
“And the assassin got off with nothing but a bite from the dog?”