LXXV. Le procès-verbal.
LXXV
The Official Report.
Noirtier was waiting, dressed in black and seated in his armchair.
When the three persons he expected had entered, he looked at the door, which his valet immediately closed.
"Take care," Villefort whispered to Valentine, who could not conceal her joy, "that if M. Noirtier wishes to communicate things to you that prevent your marriage, I forbid you to understand him."
Valentine blushed, but did not reply.
Villefort approached Noirtier:
"Here is M. Franz d'Épinay," he said to him; "you summoned him, sir, and he is complying with your wishes. Doubtless we have long desired this interview, and I shall be charmed if it proves to you how ill-founded your opposition to Valentine's marriage was."
Noirtier answered only with a look that sent a shiver through Villefort's veins.
He signed to Valentine with his eyes to come closer.
In a moment, thanks to the means she was accustomed to using in conversations with her grandfather, she had found the key word.
Then she consulted the paralytic's gaze, which fixed upon the drawer of a small piece of furniture between the two windows.
She opened the drawer and indeed found a key. When she had this key and the old man had signified that it was indeed the one he asked for, the paralytic's eyes turned toward an old desk, forgotten for many years, and which was believed to contain nothing but useless papers.
"Am I to open the desk?" asked Valentine.
"Yes," said the old man.
"Am I to open the drawers?"
"Yes."
"The side ones?"
"No."
"The middle one?"
"Yes."
Valentine opened it and drew out a bundle.
"Is this what you desire, dear grandfather?" she said.
"No."
She drew out successively all the other papers, until absolutely nothing remained in the drawer.
"But the drawer is empty now," she said.
Noirtier's eyes were fixed on the dictionary.
"Yes, dear grandfather, I understand you," said the young girl.
And she repeated, one after another, each letter of the alphabet; at the S Noirtier stopped her.
She opened the dictionary, and searched until the word secret.
"Ah! there is a secret?" said Valentine.
"Yes," said Noirtier.
"And who knows this secret?"
Noirtier looked at the door through which the servant had gone out.
"Barrois?" she said.
"Yes," said Noirtier.
"Shall I call him?"
"Yes."
Valentine went to the door and called Barrois.
Meanwhile, the sweat of impatience streamed down Villefort's brow, and Franz remained stupefied with astonishment.
The old servant appeared.
"Barrois," said Valentine, "my grandfather commanded me to take the key from this console, to open this desk and pull out this drawer; now there is a secret to this drawer, it seems you know it, open it."
Barrois looked at the old man.
"Obey," said Noirtier's intelligent eye.
Barrois obeyed; a false bottom opened and presented a bundle of papers tied with a black ribbon.
"Is this what you desire, sir?" asked Barrois.
"Yes," said Noirtier.
"To whom are these papers to be given? To M. de Villefort?"
"No."
"To Mlle Valentine?"
"No."
"To M. Franz d'Épinay?"
"Yes."
Franz, astonished, stepped forward.
"To me, sir?" he said.
"Yes."
Franz received the papers from Barrois's hands, and casting his eyes on the cover, he read:
"To be deposited, after my death, with my friend General Durand, who himself upon dying shall bequeath this packet to his son, with injunction to preserve it as containing a paper of the utmost importance."
"Well, sir," asked Franz, "what would you have me do with this paper?"
"That you keep it sealed as it is, no doubt," said the king's attorney.
"No, no," replied Noirtier quickly.
"You perhaps wish the baron to read it?" asked Valentine.
"Yes," replied the old man.
"You hear, M. le Baron, my grandfather begs you to read this paper," said Valentine.
"Then let us sit down," said Villefort impatiently, "for this will last some time."
"Sit down," said the old man's eye.
Villefort sat down, but Valentine remained standing next to her father, leaning against his armchair, and Franz stood before him. He held the mysterious paper in his hand.
"Read," said the old man's eyes.
Franz undid the envelope, and a great silence fell in the room. Amid that silence he read:
"Extract from the minutes of a meeting of the Bonapartist club of the Rue Saint-Jacques, held on 5 February 1815."
Franz stopped.
"The 5th of February 1815! That is the day my father was assassinated!"
Valentine and Villefort remained silent; only the old man's eye clearly said: "Continue."
"But it was on leaving this club," continued Franz, "that my father disappeared!"
Noirtier's gaze continued to say: "Read."
He resumed:
"The undersigned Louis-Jacques Beaurepaire, lieutenant-colonel of artillery, Étienne Duchampy, brigadier general, and Claude Lecharpal, director of waters and forests,
"Declare that on 4 February 1815 a letter arrived from the island of Elba, which recommended to the kindness and confidence of the members of the Bonapartist club General Flavien de Quesnel, who, having served the Emperor from 1804 to 1815, must be wholly devoted to the Napoleonic dynasty, despite the title of baron which Louis XVIII had but lately attached to his lands of Épinay.
"Accordingly, a note was addressed to General de Quesnel, requesting him to attend the next day's session. The note indicated neither the street nor the number of the house where the meeting was to be held; it bore no signature, but it announced to the general that, if he would hold himself ready, he would be called for at nine o'clock in the evening.
"The sessions were held from nine in the evening until midnight.
"At nine o'clock the president of the club presented himself at the general's house; the general was ready; the president told him that one of the conditions of his introduction was that he should eternally ignore the place of meeting, and that he should allow himself to be blindfolded, swearing not to try to lift the bandage.
"General de Quesnel accepted the condition, and promised upon his honor not to try to see where he was being taken.
"The general had had his carriage made ready; but the president told him it was impossible to use it, since there was no point in blindfolding the master if the coachman remained with open eyes and recognized the streets they would pass through.
"'How then shall we manage?' asked the general.
"'I have my carriage,' said the president.
"'Are you then so sure of your coachman that you entrust him with a secret you judge imprudent to tell mine?'
"'Our coachman is a member of the club,' said the president; 'we shall be driven by a councillor of state.'
"'Then,' said the general laughing, 'we run another risk, that of overturning.'
"We record this jest as proof that the general was in no way forced to attend the session, and that he came of his own free will.
"Once in the carriage, the president reminded the general of his promise to allow himself to be blindfolded. The general offered no opposition to this formality: a scarf, prepared for the purpose in the carriage, did the business.
"During the drive, the president thought he perceived that the general was trying to look under his bandage: he reminded him of his oath.
"'Ah! that is true,' said the general.
"The carriage stopped before an alley in the Rue Saint-Jacques. The general got down, leaning on the president's arm, whose rank he ignored and whom he took for a simple member of the club; they crossed the alley, mounted a flight, and entered the deliberation chamber.
"The session had begun. The members of the club, forewarned of the sort of presentation that was to take place that evening, were at full complement. Arrived in the middle of the hall, the general was invited to remove his bandage. He at once complied, and appeared much astonished to find so many familiar faces in a society whose existence he had not even suspected until then.
"He was questioned as to his sentiments, but contented himself with answering that the letters from the island of Elba must have made them known...."
Franz broke off.
"My father was a royalist," he said; "there was no need to question him as to his sentiments, they were known."
"And thence," said Villefort, "came my connection with your father, my dear M. Franz; one easily bonds when one shares the same opinions."
"Read," the old man's eye continued to say.
Franz continued:
"The president then took the floor to urge the general to express himself more explicitly; but M. de Quesnel replied that he wished above all to know what was desired of him.
"There was then communicated to the general that same letter from the island of Elba which recommended him to the club as a man upon whose assistance they could count. An entire paragraph set forth the probable return from Elba, and promised a further letter and fuller details upon the arrival of the Pharaon, a vessel belonging to the shipowner Morrel, of Marseille, and whose captain was wholly devoted to the emperor.
"During the whole of this reading, the general, upon whom they had thought to count as upon a brother, on the contrary gave visible signs of discontent and repugnance.
"The reading ended, he remained silent and frowning.
"'Well,' asked the president, 'what say you to this letter, General?'
"'I say,' he answered, 'that it is a very short time since oath was sworn to King Louis XVIII, to be already violating it for the benefit of the ex-Emperor.'
"This time the answer was too clear for any mistake as to his sentiments.
"'General,' said the president, 'there is for us no more King Louis XVIII than there is an ex-Emperor. There is only His Majesty the Emperor and King, removed for ten months from France, his realm, by violence and treason.'
"'Pardon, gentlemen,' said the general; 'it may be that there is no King Louis XVIII for you, but there is one for me: inasmuch as he made me baron and field marshal, and I shall never forget that it is to his happy return to France that I owe these two titles.'
"'Sir,' said the president in the gravest tone, rising, 'take care what you say; your words clearly demonstrate that they were mistaken about you at Elba and that we were deceived. The communication made to you rests upon the confidence placed in you, and consequently upon a sentiment that does you honor. Now we were in error: a title and a rank have rallied you to the new government we mean to overthrow. We shall not compel you to lend us your aid; we shall enlist no one against his conscience and will; but we shall compel you to act like a man of honor, even should you not be so disposed.'
"'You call being a man of honor knowing your conspiracy and not revealing it! I call that being your accomplice. You see I am even franker than you....'
"Ah! my father," said Franz, interrupting himself, "I understand now why they assassinated you."
Valentine could not help casting a glance at Franz; the young man was truly handsome in his filial enthusiasm.
Villefort paced back and forth behind him.
Noirtier followed with his eyes the expression of each, and preserved his dignified and severe attitude.
Franz returned to the manuscript and continued:
"'Sir,' said the president, 'you were asked to come before the assembly, you were not dragged there by force; you were proposed to be blindfolded, you accepted. When you acceded to this double request you knew perfectly well that we were not occupied in securing the throne of Louis XVIII, otherwise we should not have taken such pains to hide from the police. Now you understand, it would be too convenient to put on a mask by which one surprises the secrets of others, and then only to remove that mask to ruin those who trusted you. No, no, you shall first say frankly whether you are for the king of chance who now reigns, or for H.M. the Emperor.'
"'I am a royalist,' answered the general; 'I swore to Louis XVIII, I shall keep my oath.'
"These words were followed by a general murmur, and it could be seen, by the looks of a great number of the club members, that they were debating the question of making M. d'Épinay repent of these imprudent words.
"The president rose again and imposed silence.
"'Sir,' he said to him, 'you are too serious and sensible a man not to comprehend the consequences of the situation in which we find ourselves face to face, and your very frankness dictates to us the conditions that remain to be proposed to you: you shall therefore swear upon your honor to reveal nothing of what you have heard.'
"The general laid his hand upon his sword and cried:
"'If you speak of honor, begin by not failing to recognize its laws, and impose nothing by violence.'
"'And you, sir,' continued the president with a calm perhaps more terrible than the general's anger, 'do not touch your sword, that is my advice to you.'
"The general turned around him glances that betrayed a beginning of uneasiness. Yet he did not yield; on the contrary, recalling all his strength:
"'I shall not swear,' said he.
"'Then, sir, you shall die,' answered the president tranquilly.
"M. d'Épinay grew very pale: he looked a second time all around him; several members of the club whispered and sought weapons beneath their cloaks.
"'General,' said the president, 'be at ease; you are among men of honor who shall try every means to convince you before resorting against you to the last extremity, but also, as you have said, you are among conspirators, you hold our secret, you must return it to us.'
"A silence full of meaning followed these words and as the general answered nothing:
"'Close the doors,' said the president to the ushers.
"The same deathly silence succeeded his words.
"Then the general advanced, and making a violent effort upon himself:
"'I have a son,' said he, 'and I must think of him in finding myself among assassins.'
"'General,' said the chief of the assembly nobly, 'one man always has the right to insult fifty: it is the privilege of weakness. Only he is wrong to use that right. Believe me, General, swear and do not insult us.'
"The general, once more subdued by the superiority of the chief of the assembly, hesitated an instant; but at length, advancing to the president's desk:
"'What is the formula?' asked he.
"'Here it is:
"'I swear upon my honor never to reveal to any one in the world what I saw and heard on 5 February 1815, between nine and ten in the evening, and I declare myself deserving of death if I violate my oath.'
"The general seemed to experience a nervous shuddering that prevented him from replying for some seconds; at length, overcoming a manifest repugnance, he pronounced the required oath, but in so low a voice that it was scarcely heard: several members therefore demanded that he repeat it in a louder and more distinct voice, which was done.
"'Now, I wish to withdraw,' said the general; 'am I at last free?'
"The president rose, designated three members of the assembly to accompany him, and got into the carriage with the general, after having blindfolded him. Among these three members was the coachman who had brought him.
"The other members of the club separated in silence.
"'Where would you have us take you back?' asked the president.
"'Anywhere I may be delivered from your presence,' answered M. d'Épinay.
"'Sir,' resumed the president, 'take care, you are no longer in the assembly, you have to do only with isolated men; do not insult them if you would not be held responsible for the insult.'
"But instead of understanding this language, M. d'Épinay answered:
"'You are always as brave in your carriage as in your club, for the reason, sir, that four men are always stronger than one.'
"The president had the carriage stop.
"They were exactly at the entrance of the Quai des Ormes, where is the stairway descending to the river.
"'Why do you stop here?' asked M. d'Épinay.
"'Because, sir,' said the president, 'you have insulted a man, and that man will not take another step without loyally demanding satisfaction of you.'
"'Another way of assassinating,' said the general, shrugging his shoulders.
"'No noise,' answered the president, 'if you would not have me regard you myself as one of those men you spoke of just now, that is to say as a coward who takes his weakness for a shield. You are alone, a single man shall answer you; you have a sword at your side, I have one in this cane; you have no witness, one of these gentlemen shall be yours. Now, if it suits you, you may remove your bandage.'
"The general at once tore off the handkerchief he had over his eyes.
"'At last,' said he, 'I shall know with whom I have to deal.'
"The carriage was opened: the four men got down...."
Franz interrupted himself once more. He wiped a cold sweat that ran down his brow; there was something frightful in seeing the son, trembling and pale, reading aloud the details, until then unknown, of his father's death.
Valentine joined her hands as if in prayer.
Noirtier looked at Villefort with an almost sublime expression of contempt and pride.
Franz continued:
"They were, as we have said, on 5 February. For three days it had been freezing five or six degrees; the stairway was all stiff with ice, the general was stout and tall, the president offered him the side of the rail to descend.
"The two witnesses followed behind.
"It was a dark night, the ground from the stairway to the river was damp with snow and frost, one saw the water flow, black, deep, and bearing some ice floes.
"One of the witnesses went to fetch a lantern from a coal boat, and by the light of this lantern the weapons were examined.
"The president's sword, which was simply, as he had said, a sword he carried in a cane, was shorter than his adversary's, and had no guard.
"General d'Épinay proposed to draw lots for the two swords: but the president answered that it was he who had provoked, and that in provoking he had intended that each should use his own weapons.
"The witnesses tried to insist; the president imposed silence on them.
"The lantern was set upon the ground: the two adversaries placed themselves on either side; the combat began.
"The light made of the two swords two flashes. As for the men, they were scarcely visible, so thick was the shadow.
"M. the general passed for one of the best blades in the army. But he was pressed so vigorously from the first thrusts that he broke; in breaking he fell.
"The witnesses thought him killed; but his adversary, who knew he had not touched him, offered him his hand to help him rise. This circumstance, far from calming him, irritated the general, who in his turn rushed upon his adversary.
"But his adversary did not retreat a foot, receiving him upon his sword. Thrice the general gave way, finding himself too engaged, and returned to the charge.
"At the third time, he fell again.
"He was thought to have slipped as the first time; however the witnesses, seeing that he did not rise, approached him and tried to set him on his feet; but he who had taken him in his arms felt beneath his hand a moist warmth. It was blood.
"The general, who was nearly fainting, recovered his senses.
"'Ah!' said he, 'you have dispatched some bravo, some master of arms of the regiment against me.'
"The president, without answering, approached him of the two witnesses who held the lantern and, raising his sleeve, showed his arm pierced by two sword thrusts; then, opening his coat and unbuttoning his waistcoat, he showed his flank gashed by a third wound.
"Yet he had not even sighed.
"General d'Épinay fell into agony and expired five minutes after...."
Franz read these last words in so strangled a voice that they were scarcely heard; and having read them he stopped, passing his hand over his eyes as if to chase away a cloud.
But, after a moment of silence, he continued:
"The president remounted the stairway, after thrusting his sword back into his cane; a trace of blood marked his path in the snow. He was not yet at the top of the stair when he heard a dull plashing in the water: it was the general's body which the witnesses had just precipitated into the river after ascertaining death.
"The general therefore succumbed in a loyal duel, and not in an ambush, as might be said.
"In witness whereof we have signed the present to establish the truth of the facts, lest a time come when some actor in this terrible scene might be accused of murder with premeditation or of foul play against the laws of honor.
"Signed: BEAUREGARD, DUCHAMPY AND LECHARPEL."
When Franz had finished this reading so terrible for a son, when Valentine, pale with emotion, had wiped away a tear, when Villefort, trembling and crouched in a corner, had tried to conjure the storm by suppliant glances addressed to the implacable old man:
"Sir," said d'Épinay to Noirtier, "since you know this terrible story in all its details, since you have had it attested by honorable signatures, since at last you seem to take an interest in me, though your interest has as yet revealed itself only through sorrow, refuse me not a final satisfaction, tell me the name of the president of the club, that I may at last know him who killed my poor father."
Villefort, as if bewildered, sought the door handle. Valentine, who had understood before any one the old man's answer, and who had often remarked upon his forearm the trace of two sword thrusts, recoiled a step backward.
"For heaven's sake, mademoiselle," said Franz, addressing his betrothed, "join with me, that I may know the name of that man who made me an orphan at two years."
Valentine remained motionless and mute.
"See, sir," said Villefort, "believe me, do not prolong this horrible scene; the names besides were hidden by design. My father himself does not know this president, and, if he knows him, he cannot tell: proper names are not found in the dictionary."
"Oh, misery!" cried Franz, "the only hope that sustained me through all this reading and that gave me strength to go to the end, was to know at least the name of him who killed my father! Sir! sir!" he cried, turning toward Noirtier, "for heaven's sake! do what you can... come, I beseech you, to indicate to me, to make me understand...."
"Yes," answered Noirtier.
"Oh! mademoiselle, mademoiselle!" cried Franz, "your grandfather has signed that he could indicate to me... that man.... Help me... you understand him... lend me your aid."
Noirtier looked at the dictionary.
Franz took it with a nervous trembling, and pronounced successively the letters of the alphabet until the M.
At that letter, the old man signed yes.
"M!" repeated Franz.
The young man's finger slid over the words; but, at every word, Noirtier answered by a negative sign. Valentine hid her head between her hands. At length Franz arrived at the word ME.
"Yes," said the old man.
"You!" cried Franz, whose hair stood on end; "you, M. Noirtier! it is you who killed my father?"
"Yes," answered Noirtier, fixing upon the young man a majestic gaze.
Franz fell without strength into an armchair.
Villefort opened the door and fled, for the idea came to him to stifle that little life yet remaining in the terrible old man's heart.
“Stories of the world, in your language.”