CHAPTER XC.
THE TRIAL.
The day at last arrived, after long investigations, when the judgment ofthe court was to be pronounced. All the accused had been removed to theConciergerie, to be in readiness to appear when called on. Olivacontinued to be frank and timid; Cagliostro, tranquil and indifferent;Reteau, despairing, cowardly, and weeping; and Jeanne, violent,menacing, and venomous. She had managed to interest the keeper and hiswife, and thus obtain more freedom and indulgences.
The first who took his place on the wooden stool, which was appropriatedfor the accused, was Reteau, who asked pardon with tears and prayers,declared all he knew, and avowed his crimes. He interested no one; hewas simply a knave and a coward. After him came Madame de la Motte. Herappearance produced a great sensation; at the sight of the disgracefulseat prepared for her, she, who called herself a Valois, threw aroundher furious looks, but, meeting curiosity instead of sympathy, repressedher rage. When interrogated, she continued, as before, to throw outinsinuations, stating nothing clearly but her own innocence. Whenquestioned as to the letters which she was reported to have said passedbetween the queen and the cardinal, she answered that she did not wishto compromise the queen, and that the cardinal was best able to answerthis question himself. "Ask him to produce them," said she; "I wish tosay nothing about them." She inspired in nearly all a feeling ofdistrust and anger. When she retired, her only consolation was the hopeof seeing the cardinal in the seat after her; and her rage was extremewhen she saw it taken away, and an armchair brought for his use. Thecardinal advanced, accompanied by four attendants, and the governor ofthe Bastile walked by his side. At his entrance he was greeted by a longmurmur of sympathy and respect; it was echoed by loud shouts fromwithout--it was the people who cheered him. He was pale, and much moved.The president spoke politely to him, and begged him to sit down. When hespoke, it was with a trembling voice, and a troubled and even humblemanner. He gave excuses rather than proofs, and supplications more thanreasons, but said little, and seemed to be deserted by his formereloquence. Oliva came next. The wooden stool was brought back for her.Many people trembled at seeing this living image of the queen sittingthere as a criminal. Then Cagliostro was called, but almost as a matterof form, and dismissed immediately. The court then announced that theproceedings were concluded, and the deliberations about to begin. Allthe prisoners were locked for the night in the Conciergerie. Thesentence was not pronounced till the following day. Jeanne seatedherself early at the window, and before long heard a tremendousshouting from the crowd collected to hear the sentence. This continuedfor some time, when she distinctly heard a passer-by say, "A grand dayfor the cardinal!" "For the cardinal," thought Jeanne; "then he isacquitted;" and she ran to M. Hubert, the keeper, to ask, but he did notknow. "He must be acquitted!" she said; "they said it was a grand dayfor him. But I----"
"Well, madame," said he, "if he is acquitted, why should you not beacquitted also?"
Jeanne returned to the window. "You are wrong, madame," said MadameHubert to her; "you only become agitated, without perfectlyunderstanding what is passing. Pray remain quiet until your counselcomes to communicate your fate."
"I cannot," said Jeanne, continuing to listen to what passed in thestreet.
A woman passed, gaily dressed, and with a bouquet in her hand. "He shallhave my bouquet, the dear man!" said she. "Oh, I would embrace him if Icould!"
"And I also," said another.
"He is so handsome!" said a third.
"It must be the cardinal," said Jeanne; "he is acquitted."
And she said this with so much bitterness that the keeper said, "But,madame, do you not wish the poor prisoner to be released?"
Jeanne, unwilling to lose their sympathy, replied, "Oh, youmisunderstand me. Do you believe me so envious and wicked as to wish illto my companions in misfortune? Oh no; I trust he is free. It is onlyimpatience to learn my own fate, and you tell me nothing."
"We do not know," replied they.
Then other loud cries were heard. Jeanne could see the crowd pressinground an open carriage, which was going slowly along. Flowers werethrown, hats waved; some even mounted on the steps to kiss the hand of aman who sat grave and half frightened at his own popularity. This wasthe cardinal. Another man sat by him, and cries of "Vive Cagliostro!"were mingled with the shouts for M. de Rohan. Jeanne began to gathercourage from all this sympathy for those whom she chose to call thequeen's victims; but suddenly the thought flashed on her, "They arealready set free, and no one has even been to announce my sentence!" andshe trembled. New shouts now drew her attention to a coach, which wasalso advancing, followed by a crowd; and in this Jeanne recognizedOliva, who sat smiling with delight at the people who cheered her,holding her child in her arms. Then Jeanne, seeing all these peoplefree, happy, and feted, began to utter loud complaints that she was notalso liberated, or at least told her fate.
"Calm yourself, madame," said Madame Hubert.
"But tell me, for you must know."
"Madame."
"I implore you! You see how I suffer."
"We are forbidden, madame."
"Is it so frightful that you dare not?"
"Oh no; calm yourself."
"Then speak."
"Will you be patient, and not betray us?"
"I swear."
"Well, the cardinal is acquitted."
"I know it."
"M. de Cagliostro and Mademoiselle Oliva are also acquitted, M. Reteaucondemned to the galleys----"
"And I?" cried Jeanne, furiously.
"Madame, you promised to be patient."
"See--speak--I am calm."
"Banished," said the woman, feebly.
A flash of delight shone for a moment in the eyes of the countess; thenshe pretended to faint, and threw herself into the arms of MadameHubert. "What would it have been," thought she, "if I had told her thetruth!"
"Banishment!" thought Jeanne; "that is liberty, riches, vengeance; it iswhat I hoped for. I have won!"