The Crystal Stopper [49]
prosecution, for want of sufficient evidence and also in order not to scatter its efforts over too wide an area, had decided not to include Lupin in the indictment. He was the adversary aimed at, the leader who must be punished in the person of his friends, the famous and popular scoundrel whose fascination in the eyes of the crowd must be destroyed for good and all. With Gilbert and Vaucheray executed, Lupin's halo would fade away the legend would be exploded.
Lupin ... Lupin... Arsene Lupin: it was the one name heard throughout the four days. The advocate-general, the presiding judge, the jury, the counsel, the witnesses had no other words on their lips. Every moment, Lupin was mentioned and cursed at, scoffed at, insulted and held responsible for all the crimes committed. It was as though Gilbert and Vaucheray figured only as supernumeraries, while the real criminal undergoing trial was he, Lupin, Master Lupin, Lupin the burglar, the leader of a gang of thieves, the forger, the incendiary, the hardened offender, the ex-convict, Lupin the murderer, Lupin stained with the blood of his victim, Lupin lurking in the shade, like a coward, after sending his friends to the foot of the scaffold.
"Oh, the rascals know what they're about!" he muttered. "It's my debt which they are making my poor old Gilbert pay."
And the terrible tragedy went on.
At seven o'clock in the evening, after a long deliberation, the jury returned to court and the foreman read out the answers to the questions put from the bench. The answer was "Yes" to every count of the indictment, a verdict of guilty without extenuating circumstances.
The prisoners were brought in. Standing up, but staggering and white-faced, they received their sentence of death.
And, amid the great, solemn silence, in which the anxiety of the onlookers was mingled with pity, the assize-president asked:
"Have you anything more to say, Vaucheray?"
"Nothing, monsieur le president. Now that my mate is sentenced as well as myself, I am easy... We are both on the same footing... The governor must find a way to save the two of us."
"The governor?"
"Yes, Arsene Lupin."
There was a laugh among the crowd.
The president asked:
"And you, Gilbert?"
Tears streamed down the poor lad's cheeks and he stammered a few inarticulate sentences. But, when the judge repeated his question, he succeeded in mastering himself and replied, in a trembling voice:
"I wish to say, monsieur le president, that I am guilty of many things, that's true... I have done a lot of harm... But, all the same, not this. No, I have not committed murder... I have never committed murder... And I don't want to die... it would be too horrible... "
He swayed from side to side, supported by the warders, and he was heard to cry, like a child calling for help:
"Governor... save me!... Save me!... I don't want to die!"
Then, in the crowd, amid the general excitement, a voice rose above the surrounding clamour:
"Don't be afraid, little `un!... The governor's here!"
A tumult and hustling followed. The municipal guards and the policemen rushed into court and laid hold of a big, red-faced man, who was stated by his neighbours to be the author of that outburst and who struggled hand and foot.
Questioned without delay, he gave his name, Philippe Bonel, an undertaker's man, and declared that some one sitting beside him had offered him a hundred-franc note if he would consent, at the proper moment, to shout a few words which his neighbour scribbled on a bit of paper. How could he refuse?
In proof of his statements, he produced the hundred-franc note and the scrap of paper.
Philippe Bonel was let go.
Meanwhile, Lupin, who of course had assisted energetically in the individual's arrest and handed him over to' the guards, left the law-courts, his heart heavy with anguish. His car was waiting for him on the quay. He flung himself into it, in despair, seized with so great a sorrow that he had to make an effort to restrain his tears. Gilbert's cry, his voice wrung
Lupin ... Lupin... Arsene Lupin: it was the one name heard throughout the four days. The advocate-general, the presiding judge, the jury, the counsel, the witnesses had no other words on their lips. Every moment, Lupin was mentioned and cursed at, scoffed at, insulted and held responsible for all the crimes committed. It was as though Gilbert and Vaucheray figured only as supernumeraries, while the real criminal undergoing trial was he, Lupin, Master Lupin, Lupin the burglar, the leader of a gang of thieves, the forger, the incendiary, the hardened offender, the ex-convict, Lupin the murderer, Lupin stained with the blood of his victim, Lupin lurking in the shade, like a coward, after sending his friends to the foot of the scaffold.
"Oh, the rascals know what they're about!" he muttered. "It's my debt which they are making my poor old Gilbert pay."
And the terrible tragedy went on.
At seven o'clock in the evening, after a long deliberation, the jury returned to court and the foreman read out the answers to the questions put from the bench. The answer was "Yes" to every count of the indictment, a verdict of guilty without extenuating circumstances.
The prisoners were brought in. Standing up, but staggering and white-faced, they received their sentence of death.
And, amid the great, solemn silence, in which the anxiety of the onlookers was mingled with pity, the assize-president asked:
"Have you anything more to say, Vaucheray?"
"Nothing, monsieur le president. Now that my mate is sentenced as well as myself, I am easy... We are both on the same footing... The governor must find a way to save the two of us."
"The governor?"
"Yes, Arsene Lupin."
There was a laugh among the crowd.
The president asked:
"And you, Gilbert?"
Tears streamed down the poor lad's cheeks and he stammered a few inarticulate sentences. But, when the judge repeated his question, he succeeded in mastering himself and replied, in a trembling voice:
"I wish to say, monsieur le president, that I am guilty of many things, that's true... I have done a lot of harm... But, all the same, not this. No, I have not committed murder... I have never committed murder... And I don't want to die... it would be too horrible... "
He swayed from side to side, supported by the warders, and he was heard to cry, like a child calling for help:
"Governor... save me!... Save me!... I don't want to die!"
Then, in the crowd, amid the general excitement, a voice rose above the surrounding clamour:
"Don't be afraid, little `un!... The governor's here!"
A tumult and hustling followed. The municipal guards and the policemen rushed into court and laid hold of a big, red-faced man, who was stated by his neighbours to be the author of that outburst and who struggled hand and foot.
Questioned without delay, he gave his name, Philippe Bonel, an undertaker's man, and declared that some one sitting beside him had offered him a hundred-franc note if he would consent, at the proper moment, to shout a few words which his neighbour scribbled on a bit of paper. How could he refuse?
In proof of his statements, he produced the hundred-franc note and the scrap of paper.
Philippe Bonel was let go.
Meanwhile, Lupin, who of course had assisted energetically in the individual's arrest and handed him over to' the guards, left the law-courts, his heart heavy with anguish. His car was waiting for him on the quay. He flung himself into it, in despair, seized with so great a sorrow that he had to make an effort to restrain his tears. Gilbert's cry, his voice wrung