Scenes from a Courtesan's Life [171]
"But if you are Jacques Collin, and if he was, and knew that he was, the companion of an escaped convict, a sacrilegious wretch, all the crimes of which he is suspected by the law are more than probably true."
Carlos Herrera sat like bronze as he heard this speech, very cleverly delivered by the judge, and his only reply to the words "KNEW THAT HE WAS" and "ESCAPED CONVICT" was to lift his hands to heaven with a gesture of noble and dignified sorrow.
"Monsieur l'Abbe," Camusot went on, with the greatest politeness, "if you are Don Carlos Herrera, you will forgive us for what we are obliged to do in the interests of justice and truth."
Jacques Collin detected a snare in the lawyer's very voice as he spoke the words "Monsieur l'Abbe." The man's face never changed; Camusot had looked for a gleam of joy, which might have been the first indication of his being a convict, betraying the exquisite satisfaction of a criminal deceiving his judge; but this hero of the hulks was strong in Machiavellian dissimulation.
"I am accustomed to diplomacy, and I belong to an Order of very austere discipline," replied Jacques Collin, with apostolic mildness. "I understand everything, and am inured to suffering. I should be free by this time if you had discovered in my room the hiding-place where I keep my papers--for I see you have none but unimportant documents."
This was a finishing stroke to Camusot: Jacques Collin by his air of ease and simplicity had counteracted all the suspicions to which his appearance, unwigged, had given rise.
"Where are these papers?"
"I will tell you exactly if you will get a secretary from the Spanish Embassy to accompany your messenger. He will take them and be answerable to you for the documents, for it is to me a matter of confidential duty--diplomatic secrets which would compromise his late Majesty Louis XVIII--Indeed, monsieur, it would be better---- However, you are a magistrate--and, after all, the Ambassador, to whom I refer the whole question, must decide."
At this juncture the usher announced the arrival of the doctor and the infirmary attendant, who came in.
"Good-morning, Monsieur Lebrun," said Camusot to the doctor. "I have sent for you to examine the state of health of this prisoner under suspicion. He says he had been poisoned and at the point of death since the day before yesterday; see if there is any risk in undressing him to look for the brand."
Doctor Lebrun took Jacques Collin's hand, felt his pulse, asked to look at his tongue, and scrutinized him steadily. This inspection lasted about ten minutes.
"The prisoner has been suffering severely," said the medical officer, "but at this moment he is amazingly strong----"
"That spurious energy, monsieur, is due to nervous excitement caused by my strange position," said Jacques Collin, with the dignity of a bishop.
"That is possible," said Monsieur Lebrun.
At a sign from Camusot the prisoner was stripped of everything but his trousers, even of his shirt, and the spectators might admire the hairy torso of a Cyclops. It was that of the Farnese Hercules at Naples in its colossal exaggeration.
"For what does nature intend a man of this build?" said Lebrun to the judge.
The usher brought in the ebony staff, which from time immemorial has been the insignia of his office, and is called his rod; he struck it several times over the place where the executioner had branded the fatal letters. Seventeen spots appeared, irregularly distributed, but the most careful scrutiny could not recognize the shape of any letters. The usher indeed pointed out that the top bar of the letter T was shown by two spots, with an interval between of the length of that bar between the two points at each end of it, and there was another spot where the bottom of the T should be.
"Still that is quite uncertain," said Camusot, seeing doubt in the expression of the prison doctor's countenance.
Carlos begged them to make the same experiment on the other shoulder and the middle of his back. About fifteen more such scars appeared, which,