Adventures of Susan Hopley/Volume 1/Chapter 17
CHAPTER XVII.
JULIA CONTINUES THE HISTORY OF HER PARENTS AS FOLLOWS.
"'Come in;' cried Valentine suddenly awakening, and at first unconscious where he was; upon which injunction the handle was turned and efforts made to open the door.
"'The door's locked, Sir, and the key's inside,' replied a female voice.
"'Locked!' cried Valentine, rousing himself, looking about, and beginning to recall the events of the night—'My God! I remember now—so it is. For Heaven's sake get the door opened, and let me out!' He then heard the woman move away, and presently return with another; and by their conversation he made out that they were searching for the key, wondering what had become of it, and how the door should have been locked. After an interval they both assured him that the key must be inside, as they had sought for it in vain.
"'My good woman,' exclaimed Valentine, 'I tell you I am locked in. I was brought here in the middle of the night, for what purpose I can't guess, and shut into this room. I heard the man that lured me hither, turn the key; and all I beg of you is, to send for some one to break the door open, and let me out.'
"After this, he heard the women whispering and tittering together; and then they went away, and all was silent.
"Having waited some time in expectation of their return, he looked about for a bell, he found one which he reached by mounting on a table, for the cord was cut short; but he rang it in vain. He then made a noise at the door, and tried to kick it open, but no sound indicated that there was any one in the house but himself. Desperate at the delay, and uncertain whether the women would return or not, he next rushed to the window, and threw it open, resolving to jump out at all risks, rather than longer submit to this mysterious imprisonment. Now that it was light enough to distinguish surrounding objects, the feat did not appear so difficult as he had imagined. The window looked into a garden, and immediately beneath was a flower bed of soft earth, which would serve to break his fall; and, accordingly, he succeeded in reaching the ground uninjured. His next object was to get out of the garden, and he tried the only door he saw, but it was locked. Every moment his eagerness to escape increased—he could not tell what trouble and delay might await him if found where he was, so without seeking further, he climbed over the wall. On the other side were fields which led by a back way into the town, and with all the speed he could command, he hurried across them, resolving to go straight to a Juge de paix, and tell his story; aware of the importance, under such mysterious circumstances, of being first heard, and seeking an éclaircissement himself.
"The way by the fields was shorter than by the road, and he preferred it, as there was less chance of his being met by any one before he had accomplished his object; but there were several dykes and enclosures in his path, and unfortunately in leaping a wall, having failed to observe a ditch on the other side, he fell and sprained his ancle.
"The pain was so intense, that to move was impossible, and there he sat, cursing his hard fate, and as anxious to be discovered by some passenger, as he had been a moment before to avoid observation.
"A heavy half hour he had passed in this painful situation, when he was cheered by hearing the voices of persons approaching by the way he had come, and he made an effort to get upon his feet to ask their assistance; but before he could accomplish his purpose, a man suddenly leaped over the wall, who the moment he set his eyes upon him, called out, 'Here he is, the rascal, crouching in a ditch,' and immediately seized him by the collar.
"'Bring the fellow along!' cried two others, looking over; and without mercy they roughly pulled him out of the ditch.
"In vain he attempted to explain his situation, and the accident he had met with; not a word would they listen to; but reckless of his expostulations and the pain they were inflicting, they dragged him over the wall and back across the fields to the house he had so lately escaped from; where flinging him into a dark closet, two of them departed, leaving the third to keep guard at the door, with strict injunctions, rather to take his life than let him away.
"After making several fruitless efforts to induce the man outside to throw some light on the mystery that seemed to be thickening around him, he at length resigned himself to his fate, and stretching himself on the floor, in as easy, a position as the limited dimensions of his prison would admit, he resolved to await the result with what patience he could.
"He had passed about two hours in this situation, when he heard the voices of several persons entering the house; and one of them having inquired of his gaoler 'if all was right,' and being answered in the affirmative, they proceeded up stairs. In about a quarter of an hour afterwards the closet door was thrown open, and he was desired to come out; but by this time, his leg being so swollen that he was utterly unable to move, they placed him in a chair, and so carried him up stairs to the room in which he had passed the night.
"The occupant of the bed was still there; but though looking as ghastly as ever, he was not dead. He was sitting up supported by pillows, and on one side stood a gentleman, whom Valentine recognised as an eminent surgeon of the city; and on the other a priest. At a small table, near the window, sat a grave, elderly man in the costume of a juge de paix; and beside him, one younger, apparently his clerk, before whom were materials for writing. Two women, and the men who had pursued and brought him back from the fields, were also present.
"The chair in which Valentine had been conveyed up stairs was set down at the foot of the bed, amidst a general silence that bespoke the awe and wonder of the assistants. Every eye was turned towards him, and amongst them the glazed and lustreless orb of the apparently dying man. As he gazed on the features of the amazed and agitated youth, a faint and transitory flush passed over the blood-forsaken cheek, and for a moment the dead eye shone with an unnatural light; slowly and with difficulty he raised his feeble arm, and pointing his fore finger to Valentine he exclaimed, 'That is the man!'
"'Bring him forward!' said the Juge de paix; and they lifted the chair and placed it nearer to the table. 'Now, Sir,' continued he to the sick man, 'are you prepared to swear that that man is your assassin?'
"'I am,' replied the other.
"'Good heavens! Sir,'—eagerly interrupted Valentine.
"'Silence!' ejaculated the Juge de paix, 'and wait till you are interrogated. Write down, Bontems,' addressing the clerk, 'that the accuser swears to the identity of the criminal;' and then turning to Valentine, he inquired his name and address.
"'My name is Valentine Clerk, and I am employed in the office of Monsieur Le Moine, who resides in the Rue de Mousseline,' replied the prisoner.
"'That is true,' said the surgeon, 'I recognise the young man's face.'
"'The Juge de paix then turning to Valentine, urged him, according to the then custom of French criminal jurisprudence, to make a confession, since the circumstantial evidence against him was so clear, that there could be no doubt of his guilt.
"'If by a confession you mean a relation of the events of the past night,' replied Valentine, and of the circumstances that have placed me in a situation I am quite at a loss to comprehend, I will willingly give you all the information I am able; and I trust, strange as it may appear, that you will listen without prejudice to my story. And you, Sir,' he added, turning to the sick man, 'I beseech you to pause before you swear away the life of an innocent person. 'You are perhaps on the threshold of the grave yourself—do not in your eagerness for vengeance, or for justice, drag a victim with you thither, who as he stands beside you before the throne of the Almighty, will prove your last words to be a lie.'
"After this appeal to the consciences of his accuser and his judge, the young man recapitulated every circumstance that had occurred, from the summons of the stranger up to the moment of his being discovered in the ditch; but he had the mortification of perceiving that he was listened to by all parties with a perfect incredulity, which the examination of the witnesses that followed had no tendency to dispel.
"The two women servants declared that no one slept in the house but themselves and their master—that he had gone to bed well on the preceding evening—that the house door was shut, but not locked, and could not have been opened from without, but by picking the lock,—the lock was picked—they had heard nothing unusual during the night; and the first that came down stairs in the morning had stopped at her master's room to awaken him, as was customary—that on finding the door locked, she had called her fellow servant and searched vainly for the key—that they had first supposed it was their master that was speaking to them—but that on finding the house door ajar, they were satisfied some one had got in during the night; and they had therefore both ran off to the town instantly for assistance, neither having courage to stay behind.
"The police officers then related, how, on receiving the summons, they had hastened to the spot and broken open the bedroom door—that there were evident marks of an attempt to force the lock, and part of the blade of a clasp-knife was found on the floor.
"Here the clerk interrupted the evidence to suggest that the prisoner should have been searched at the commencement of the investigation. This omission being repaired, they found on Valentine's person, a purse containing a few franks, a silk pocket handkerchief, a note book containing memoranda of the business he had to do, and a clasp-knife, the broken blade of which exactly fitted the fragment the officers had picked up.
"Though Valentine had himself avowed his attempt to make his escape by picking the lock, yet, on the adjustment of the fragments, every body in the room looked at one another triumphantly, and seemed to consider this concidence as the indisputable condemnation of the prisoner.
"The officers then continued to say, that they had found no one in the room but the gentleman in the bed, who had desired them instantly to pursue the assassin who had escaped by the window, which was open, and to fetch a surgeon; and concluded their evidence, by relating how they had found the prisoner hiding himself in a ditch.'
"'Hiding myself!' exclaimed Valentine indignantly—'look at this swollen limb, and you'll have no difficulty in conceiving why I was found in a ditch.'
"'Sans doute,' rejoined Bontems, the clerk, 'c'etait un malheur; but for that you might have escaped altogether.'
"'C'etait la Providence,' said the priest. 'The guilty man caught in the Almighty's snare!' and he crossed himself devoutly at the idea of this signal instance of Divine intervention.
"'Now then, Monsieur Bruneau,' said the Justice turning to the wounded man, 'we shall be happy to hear your account of the affair. Imprimis, did you ever see the prisoner before?'
"'Never, till I saw him in my room last night,' replied Bruneau.
"'Did you see him enter it?' asked the Justice.
"'No,' returned Bruneau, 'I was asleep. It was the blow which inflicted this wound, (and he opened the bosom of his shirt as he spoke, and displayed the bloody bandages that crossed his breast,) which first awakened me; but I believe I fainted instantly. When I came to my senses, I found myself bathed in blood, and my first thought was to try and ring the bell. But when with difficulty I had raised myself in the bed for that purpose, and drawn aside the curtain, I saw the window open and a man apparently endeavouring to make his escape by it. I fancy it was the cool night air from the open window that had recalled me from my swoon. I believe he heard me move, for he turned suddenly round, and it was then for the first time my eye fell upon the face of the prisoner. The fright and the exertion together overcame me, and I fainted again. When I recovered the second time, hearing the breathing of the assassin near me, and fearful that if he found me alive, he might be tempted to complete his work, I lay as silent and motionless as I could, till I heard and saw him escape by the window. Then I made another attempt to ring the bell, but found the cord had been cut away, and that it was out of my reach.'
"'Which indicates premeditation and malice aforethought on the part of the prisoner,' said the clerk.
"'Can you form any idea of his motive for the crime?' asked the Juge.
"'None, unless it be robbery,' returned Bruneau, 'as I never heard of his existence before.'
"But not only was there nothing suspicious found upon Valentine, but on examination, no indications of robbery, nor of an intention to rob could be discovered.
"'Can you recollect any enemy who might have hired him to commit the act?' inquired the Juge.
"'None,' returned Bruneau.
"'Or any one who has an interest in your death?'
"A strange spasm seemed for a moment to convulse the features of the wounded man at this question; but he answered as before, 'None.'
"Nothing more could be elicited, and here ended the investigation for the present.. Valentine's appeals for justice and asseverations of innocence passed quite unheeded; and, indeed, he was so overpowered himself by the body of circumstantial evidence that had been brought against him, that he could scarcely expect his accusers should listen to him; nor was he surprised to hear the Juge de paix directing his clerk to draw up his committal, and forthwith see him conducted to the maison forte.
"Whilst the committal was preparing, the surgeon humanely administered some relief to his hurt leg, the torture of which, but for the greater torture of his mind, would have been almost insupportable. But the greater evil somewhat subdued the less. His thoughts were so bewildered and distracted by the strangeness of his situation, that they could grapple with nothing—not even his acute bodily pain could fix them; and he was placed in a chair, and carried through the streets to prison, in a state of unconsciousness almost amounting to an annihilation of the faculties.
"'C'est singulier!' said the Juge de paix, as he arose from his seat, after Valentine was carried away—'On ne peut pas en douter— cependant—!' and he raised his shoulders to his ears.
"'Il faut avouer que les indices sont fortes—mais—!', said the surgeon, imitating the gesture of the justice.
"'Si cet homme là n'est pas coupable, on ne le fut jamais,' said the clerk striking the table with his knuckles.
"'Messieurs, on y voit le doigt de Dieu,' said the priest, crossing himself devoutly.
"Quel dommage!' said the women walking away, arm in arm; 'c'était, vraiment, un joli garçon!'