Prisoner. “Yes; that is the fact.”
Judge. “HERE, AGAIN, IS AN IMPOSSIBILITY; and nothing is more precise than the declaration of the medical men. They affirm that your wife could not have spoken—their report is unanimous.”
Prisoner. “I can only oppose to it quite contrary opinions from professional men, also: you must hear them.”
Judge. “What did your wife do next?”
Judge. “You deny the statements of the witnesses:” (they related to Peytel’s demeanor and behavior, which the judge wishes to show were very unusual;—and what if they were?) “Here, however, are some mute witnesses, whose testimony, you will not perhaps refuse. Near Louis Rey’s body was found a horse-cloth, a pistol, and a whip..... Your domestic must have had this cloth upon him when he went to assassinate you: it was wet and heavy. An assassin disencumbers himself of anything that is likely to impede him, especially when he is going to struggle with a man as young as himself.”
Prisoner. “My servant had, I believe, this covering on his body; it might be useful to him to keep the priming of his pistol dry.”
The president caused the cloth to be opened, and showed that there was no hook, or tie, by which it could be held together; and that Rey must have held it with one hand, and, in the other, his whip, and the pistol with which he intended to commit the crime; which was impossible.
Prisoner. “These are only conjectures.”
And what conjectures, my God! upon which to take away the life of a man. Jeffreys, or Fouquier Tinville, could scarcely have dared to make such. Such prejudice, such bitter persecution, such priming of the jury, such monstrous assumptions and unreason—fancy them coming from an impartial judge! The man is worse than the public accuser.