And I kept repeating: "It is horrible! I have killed neither my husband nor my mother." The President grew impatient, and I remembered crying out: "Ah! you don't want me to protest. You don't want me to shout my innocence. But what would be your attitude if you were accused of having murdered your wife and your father? I protest, not against you, Monsieur de Valles, but against the Law."
I apologised the next day to the President for this outburst, and I may here state that since I have read the full report of that terrible trial, of which, alas, I was the heroine, I have been struck even more than at the trial itself—when I was too ill and too distraught to see things in quite their proper light—by the absolute impartiality of M. de Valles. He paid a tribute to my disinterestedness, to my activity and qualities as a housewife, and when, later on, Couillard gave evidence, he declared that he would not ask my valet to give his opinion about me, adding: "I do not see the necessity of repeating the mere gossip and twaddle of the servants' hall."
Only once did M. de Valles really deviate from his usual fair and irreproachable attitude: he was questioning me about placing the pearl in Couillard's pocket-book, and finding my answers were not satisfactory, finding that I hesitated and sobbed, he exclaimed: "I thought so!" Then turning to the jury, he added: "Gentlemen, watch this clever woman. She collapses whenever I ask a question that she cannot answer—watch her faint! The fainting scene is coming!" As a matter of fact, I faltered and sobbed many, many times, but not once did I faint.
There were many fierce encounters between the President and me during that third hearing, especially about the famous pearl, and I can do no better than quote from a report of the trial:
"Madame S. I had my suspicions against Couillard. He had stolen a letter which my daughter had sent to her fiancé, I was told dreadful things about him. Also, I had almost lost my mind. I had no peace. I thought Couillard knew something, and in order to make him speak, I placed the pearl in his pocket-book."
"The Judge interrupts the prisoner, but she clamours entreatingly: 'Gentlemen of the jury, hear me, hear me!'
"She is sobbing as she speaks, and holds her head between her hands as if she feared that it would bunt with the pain that she is enduring. 'If Couillard is not guilty and can say nothing, I thought, I will confess to having placed the pearl in the pocket-book and he will be released. Besides, when the letter was found on him, he exclaimed: "I am caught. I shall not speak except before the judge." Was not this suspicious, and was it not natural that in my anxiety to discover the murderers, I should jump hastily to conclusions? I am speaking the truth; I fear nothing.'
"The President. 'You had no right to act as you did.'
"Madame S. 'Does not the law use similar methods? I know something about it.'
"The President. 'I forbid you to insult the Law. You are here in Court.'... (General uproar; M. Trouard-Riolle, M. de Valles and Maître Aubin all speak at the same time.)