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Chapter LXV
Chapter LXV
Trial
It was a stormy and dark night; vast clouds covered the heavens,
concealing the stars; the moon would not rise much before midnight.
Occasionally, by the light of a flash of lightning, which gleamed along
the horizon, the road appeared before them, white and solitary; the flash
extinct, all remained in darkness.
At every instant Athos was forced to restrain D`Artagnan, constantly in
advance of the little troop, and to beg him to keep his rank, which, at the
end of a minute, he again departed from. He had but one thought, which was
to go forward, and he went.
They passed in silence through the little village of Festubert, where
the wounded servant was, and then skirted the wood of Richebourg; when
arrived at Herlier, Planchet, who led the column, turned to the left.
Several times Lord de Winter, Porthos, or Aramis, endeavored to enter
into conversation with the man in the red cloak; but to every interrogation
put to him he bowed, without making any reply. The travelers then
comprehended that there must be some reason why the unknown preserved such
a silence, and said no more to him.
The storm came on, the flashes succeeded each other more rapidly, the
thunder began to growl, and the wind, the precursor of a hurricane, whistled
in the plumes and the hair of the horsemen.
The cavalcade trotted on more sharply.
A little before they came to Fromilles the storm burst in all its fury
upon them; they unfolded their cloaks. They had still three leagues to
travel, and they performed it amid torrents of rain.
D`Artagnan took off his hat, and could not be persuaded to make use of
his cloak: he found ease in feeling the water trickle over his burning brow,
and down his feverish body.
At the moment the little troop had passed Goskal, and were approaching
the port, a man, sheltered beneath a tree, left the trunk of it, with which
he had been confounded in the darkness, and advanced into the middle of the
road, with his finger on his lips.
Athos recognized Grimaud.
"What`s the matter?" cried Athos; "has she left Armentieres?"
Grimaud made a sign in the affirmative. D`Artagnan ground his teeth.
"Silence, D`Artagnan!" said Athos. "I have charged myself with this
affair; it is for me, then, to interrogate Grimaud."
"Where is she?" asked Athos.
Grimaud stretched out his hands in the direction of the Lys.
"Far from here?" asked Athos.
Grimaud showed his master his forefinger bent.
"Alone?" asked Athos.
Grimaud made a sign that she was.
"Gentlemen," said Athos, "she is alone, within half a league of us, in
the direction of the river."
"That`s well," said D`Artagnan; "lead us on, Grimaud."
Grimaud took his course across the country, and acted as a guide to the
cavalcade.
At the end of about five hundred paces they came to a rivulet, which
they forded.
By the aid of the lightning they could perceive the village of
Enguinghem.
"Is she there?" asked D`Artagnan of Athos.
Grimaud shook his head negatively.
"Silence, then!" cried Athos.
And the troop continued their route.
Another flash enlightened all around them; Grimaud extended his arm, and
by the blue splendor of the serpent of fire they distinguished a little
isolated house, on the banks of the river, within a hundred paces of a ferry.
A light was seen at one window.
"This is the place," said Athos.
At this moment a man, who had been crouching in a ditch, jumped up and
came toward them. It was Mousqueton; he pointed with his finger to the
window with the light in it.
"She is there," said he.
"And Bazin?" asked Athos.
"While I kept my eye on the window, he guarded the door."
"All is well!" said Athos; "you are good and faithful servants."
Athos sprang from his horse, gave the bridle to Grimaud, and advanced
toward the window, after having made a sign to the rest of the troop to go
toward the door.
The little house was surrounded by a low quickset hedge of two or three
feet high; Athos sprang over the hedge, and went up to the window, which was
without shutters, but had the half-curtain drawn closely.
He got upon the skirting-stone to enable him to look over the curtain.
By the light of a lamp he saw a woman enveloped in a mantle of a dark
color, seated upon a joint-stool near the dying embers of a fire; her elbows
were placed upon a mean table, and she leaned her head upon her two hands,
which were white as ivory.
He could not distinguish her countenance, but a sinister smile passed
over the lips of Athos; he could not be deceived - it was the woman he
sought.
At this moment one of the horses neighed; milady raised her head, saw
the pale face of Athos close to the window, and screamed with terror.
Athos, perceiving that she knew him, pushed the window with his knee and
hand; it yielded - the frame and glass were broken to shivers.
And Athos, like the specter of vengeance, sprang into the room.
Milady rushed to the door and opened it; but, still more pale and
menacing than Athos, D`Artagnan stood on the sill of it.
Milady drew back, uttering a cry; D`Artagnan, believing she might have
means of flight, and fearing she should escape, drew a pistol from his belt;
but Athos raised his hand.
"Put back that weapon, D`Artagnan," said he; "this woman must be judged,
not assassinated. Wait but a little, my friend, and you shall be satisfied.
Come in, gentlemen."
D`Artagnan obeyed, for Athos had the solemn voice and the powerful
gesture of a judge sent by the Lord himself. Behind D`Artagnan entered
Porthos, Aramis, Lord de Winter, and the man in the red cloak.
The four lackeys guarded the door and the window.
Milady had sunk into a chair, with her hands extended, as if to conjure
away this terrible apparition. On perceiving her brother-in-law, an agonized
cry of surprise and fright burst from her lips.
"What do you want?" screamed milady.
"We want," said Athos, "Charlotte Backson, who first was called Countess
de la Fere, and afterward Lady de Winter, Baroness de Scheffield."
"That is I! that is I!" murmured milady, in extreme terror; "what do
you want with me?"
"We want to judge you according to your crime," said Athos; "you shall
be free to defend yourself; justify yourself if you can. Monsieur
D`Artagnan, it is for you to accuse her first."
D`Artagnan advanced.
"Before God and before men," said he, "I accuse this woman of having
poisoned Constance Bonacieux, who died yesterday evening."
He turned toward Porthos and Aramis.
"We bear witness to this," said the two musketeers, with one voice.
D`Artagnan continued:
"Before God and before men, I accuse this woman of having attempted to
poison me, in wine which she sent me from Villeroi, with a forged letter, as
if that wine came from my friends. God preserved me, but a man named
Brisemont died in my place."
"We bear witness to this," said Porthos and Aramis, in the same manner
as before.
"Before God and before men, I accuse this women of having urged me to
murder the Baron de Wardes; and of having employed assassins to shoot me;
from whom I was again preserved by God`s providence; but, as none can bear
witness to these facts, I attest them myself - I have done," and M:
d`Artagnan passed to the other side of the room, to Porthos and Aramis.
"It is your turn, milord," said Athos.
The baron came forward.
"Before God and before men," said he, "I accuse this woman of having
been the means of the assassination of the Duke of Buckingham."
"The Duke of Buckingham assassinated!" cried all present, with one
voice.
"Yes," said the baron - "assassinated. Upon receiving the warning
letter you wrote to me, I caused this woman to be arrested, and gave her in
charge to a loyal servant; she corrupted this man, she placed the poniard in
his hand, she made him kill the duke; and at this,moment, perhaps, the
assassin is paying with his head for the crime of this fury!"
A shudder crept through the frames of the judges at the revelation of
such unheard-of crimes.
"That is not all," resumed Lord de Winter; "my brother, who made you his
heir, died in three hours, of a strange disorder, which left livid traces
behind it all over the body. Sister, how did your husband die?"
"Horror! horror!" cried Porthos and Aramis.
"Assassin of Buckingham, assassin of Felton, assassin of my brother, I
demand justice upon you, and I swear that if it be not granted to me, I will
execute it myself."
And Lord de Winter ranged himself by the side of D`Artagnan, leaving the
place free for another accuser.
Milady let her head sink between her two hands, and endeavored to recall
her ideas, which whirled about in a mortal vertigo.
"It is my turn," said Athos, himself trembling as the lion trembles at
the sight of the serpent; "it is my turn. I married that woman when she was
a young girl; I married her in opposition to the wishes of all my family; I
gave her my wealth, I gave her my name; and one day I discovered that this
woman was branded; this woman was marked with a fleur-de-lis on her left
shoulder."
"Oh!" said milady, "I defy you to find any tribunal which pronounced
such an infamous sentence against me. I defy you to find him who executed
it."
"Silence!" cried a hollow voice. "It is for me to reply to that!" And
the man in the red cloak came forward in his turn.
"What man is that? what man is that?" cried milady, suffocated by
terror, her hair unknotting, and rising over her livid countenance as if
alive.
All eyes were turned toward this man; for to all except Athos he was
unknown.
And even Athos looked at him with as much stupefaction as the rest, for
he could not conceive how he could in any way be mixed up with the horrible
drama which was then being unfolded.
After having approached milady with a slow and solemn step, so that the
table alone separated them, the unknown took off his mask.
Milady for some time examined with increasing terror that pale face,
enframed in its black hair, beard and whiskers, the only expression of which
was icy impassability - all at once:
"Oh! no, no!" cried she, rising and retreating to the very wall; "no,
no! it is an infernal apparition! It cannot be he! Help, help!" screamed
she, turning toward the wall, as if she would tear an opening with her hands.
"Who are you, then?" cried all the witnesses of this scene.
"Ask that woman," said the man in the red cloak; "for you may plainly
see she knows me!"
"The executioner of Lille! the executioner of Lille!" cried milady, a
prey to wild terror, and clinging with her hands to the wall to avoid
falling.
Every one drew back, and the man in the red cloak remained standing
alone in the middle of the room.
"Oh! pardon! pardon!" cried the miserable woman, falling on her knees.
The unknown waited for silence, and then -
"I told you so; I was sure she would know me," resumed he. "Yes, I am
the executioner of Lille, and this is my history."
All eyes were fixed upon this man, whose words were listened to with
anxious attention.
"That woman was formerly a young maiden as beautiful as she is now. She
was a nun in the convent of the Benedictines of Templemar. A young priest,
of a simple and trustful heart, performed the duties of the church of that
convent. She undertook his seduction, and succeeded: she would have seduced
a saint.
"Their vows were sacred and irrevocable. Their connection could not
last long without ruining both. She prevailed upon him to leave the country;
but to leave the country, to fly together, to reach another part of France,
where they might live at ease; because unknown, money was necessary; neither
of them had any. The priest stole the sacred vases, and sold them; but as
they were preparing to escape together, they were both arrested.
"Within a week she seduced the son of the jailer, and got away. The
young priest was condemned to ten years imprisonment, and to be branded. I
was executioner of the city of Lille, as this woman has said, and the guilty
man, gentlemen, was my brother!
"I then swore that this woman who had ruined him, who was more than his
accomplice, since she had induced him to commit the crime, should at least
share his punishment. I suspected where she was concealed. I followed her,
I caught her, I bound her, and I impressed the same disgraceful mark upon her
that I had branded upon my poor brother.
"The day after I returned to Lille, my brother, in his turn, succeeded
in making his escape; I was accused of complicity, and was condemned to
remain in his place till he should be again a prisoner. My poor brother was
ignorant of this sentence; he rejoined this woman; they fled together into
Berry, and there he obtained a little curacy. This woman passed for his
sister.
"The lord of the estate upon which the church of the curacy was situated
saw this pretended sister, and became enamored of her; so much so, that he
offered to marry her. Then she left him she had ruined, for him she was
destined to ruin, and became the Countess de la Fere - "
All eyes were turned toward Athos, whose real name that was, and who
made a sign with his head that all was true that the executioner had said.
"Then," resumed he, "mad, desperate, determined to get rid of an
existence from which she had taken away everything, both honor and happiness,
my poor brother returned to Lille, and learning the sentence which had
condemned me in his place, surrendered himself, and hung himself that same
night, from the iron bar of the loophole of his prison.
"To render justice to them who had condemned me, they kept their word.
As soon as the identity of my brother was proved, I was set at liberty.
"That is the crime of which I accuse her; that is the cause of her being
branded."
"Monsieur D`Artagnan," said Athos, "what is the penalty you demand
against this woman?"
"The punishment of death," replied D`Artagnan.
"Milord de Winter," continued Athos, "what is the penalty you demand
against this woman?"
"The punishment of death," replied Lord de Winter.
"Messieurs Porthos and Aramis," again said Athos, "you who are her
judges, what is the sentence you pronounce upon this woman?"
"The punishment of death," replied the musketeers, in a stern, hollow
voice.
Milady uttered a frightful shriek, and dragged herself along several
paces toward her judges upon her knees.
Athos stretched out his hand toward her.
"Charlotte Backson, Countess de la Fere, Milady de Winter," said he,
"your crimes have wearied men on earth and God in heaven. If you know any
prayer, say it; for you are condemned, and you shall die."
At these words, which left no hope, milady raised herself up to her full
height, and endeavored to speak, but her strength failed her; she felt that
a powerful and implacable hand seized her by the hair, and dragged her away
as irrevocably as fatality drags man: she did not, therefore, even attempt
to make the least resistance, and went out of the cottage.
Lord de Winter, D`Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, went out close
behind her and the executioner. The lackeys followed their masters, and the
chamber was left solitary, with its broken window, its open door, and its
smoky lamp burning dimly on the table.
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