(A little longer pause). “Non, mon President—du—du Jardin Mabille.”
This announcement appeared to create a considerable amount of amusement in court.
After furnishing the court with information on all these points, “Mme. de St. Augustin” proceeded to relate that she had been on terms of great intimacy with Rose Hartmann, whose acquaintance she admitted, after some pressure on the part of the president, to having made at St. Lazarre. Meeting Rose a few days after the latter's migration from the Rue de Constantinople to the Avenue de l'Imperatrice, she had congratulated her on her altered fortunes, and had questioned her about her new “Protecteur.” Rose, it appeared, had replied, that, as far as the material advantages were concerned, she had nothing to complain of, but that her lover was a peculiar kind of man, with whom she did not feel altogether safe, and that, if she listened to her presentiments, she would certainly decline to have anything further to do with him. “She added,” declared the fair Cora, “‘I have a queer, uncanny feeling about that man. Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if I came to grief through him some day. Remember, ma chere, if anything ever happens to me, you may depend upon it that he will have had something to do with the matter. I believe him to be capable of anything, but he is too good a catch, financially speaking, to be abandoned until a more desirable party turns up.’”
Then, satisfied with the impression which her remarks had produced, the witness turned toward the judges, and inquired whether “ces messieurs” had any further questions to ask. On receiving a reply in the negative, she swept out of the witness-box, and dropping a low courtesy, in which she graciously included both the public and the tribunal, she passed out.
Thereupon, the advocate-general arose and commenced his argument for the prosecution. He used the evidence of the two witnesses who had just been heard by the court with crushing effect, and wound up his brilliant and clever peroration by a demand to the jury that they should mete out to the prisoner the full penalty of the law.
The jury then retired, and remained absent about three-quarters of an hour. When they reappeared, their foreman, in response to the inquiry of the presiding judge, declared that their unanimous verdict was to the effect that the prisoner was guilty of the murder of Rose Hartmann; but that, in view of the purely circumstantial nature of the evidence submitted to them, they recommended him to the mercy of the court.
The president, addressing Frederick, asked whether he had any reason to put forward why the sentence of the law should not be pronounced upon him.
Amid a profound silence, Frederick answered:
“I can only once more swear by all that I hold sacred that I am innocent of the crime laid to my charge. I was deeply attached to the poor girl whom I am accused of having murdered, and it ought to be clear to every one present that I had no possible object to attain in putting an end to her days. It is not mercy I demand, but justice.”
The president, after consulting with his two associate judges, then, in a loud and impressive voice, pronounced the sentence of the court, whereby “Frederick Wolff” was condemned to twenty years penal servitude, and to ten years more police supervision and loss of civil rights.