execrated and condemned by all. For eight days he had endured the anguish of a thousand deaths, of a myriad agonising fears. His soul had been harrowed by the most awful visions--visions of which none but himself had any conception. In his cell with the gaolers watching his every movement; in the court with the glare of daylight upon him; in the dusky corridors he traversed morning and evening he saw the phantom of the girl with whose murder he was charged, and by her side the phantom of himself standing on the threshold of a future in which there was no mercy or pity.
No communication passed between him and the lawyer who was fighting for him; not once did the Advocate turn to the prisoner or address a word to him; it was as though he were battling for a victory in which Gautran was in no wise concerned. But if indeed he desired to win, he adopted the strangest tactics to accomplish his desire. Not a question he asked the witnesses, not an observation he made to the judge, but tended to fix more surely the prisoner's degradation, and gradually there stole into Gautran's heart a deadly hatred and animosity against his defender.
"He defends me to ruin me," this was Gautran's thought; "he is seeking to destroy me, body and soul."
His own replies to the questions put to him by the judge were sufficient to convict him. He equivocated and lied in the most barefaced manner, and when he was exposed and reproved, evinced no shame--preserving either a dogged silence, or obstinately exclaiming that the whole world was leagued against him. Apart from the question whether he was lying or speaking the truth, there was a certain consistency in his method which would have been of service to him had his cause been good. This was especially noticeable when he was being interrogated with respect to his relations with the murdered girl.
"You insist," said the judge, "that Madeline accepted you as her lover?"
"Yes," replied Gautran, "I insist upon it."
"Evidence will be brought forward to prove that it was not so. What, then, will you answer?"
"That whoever denies it is a liar."
"And if a dozen or twenty deny it?"
"They lie, the lot of them."
"What should make them speak falsely instead of truly?"
"Because they are all against me."
"There is no other evidence except your bare statement that Madeline and you were affianced."
"That is my misfortune. If she were alive she could speak for me."
"It is a safe remark, the poor child being in her grave. It is the rule for young girls to love men whose appearance is not repulsive."
"Is this," cried Gautran, smiting his face with his fist, "to stand as a witness against me, too?"
"No; but a girl has generally a cause for falling in love. If the man be not attractive in appearance, it is almost certain he will possess some other quality to attract her. He may be clever, and this may win her."
"I do not pretend to be clever."
"His manners may be engaging. His nature may be kind and affectionate, and she may have had proof of it."
"My nature is kind and affectionate. It may have been that, if you are determined upon having a reason for her fondness for me."
"She was fond of you?"
"Aye."
"Did she tell you so, and when?"
"Always when we were alone."
"We cannot have Madeline's evidence as to the feelings she entertained for you; but we can have the evidence of others who knew you both. Are you acquainted with Katherine Scherrer?"
"Not too well; we were never very intimate."
"She is a young woman a few years older than Madeline, and she warned Madeline against you. She herself had received instances of your brutality. Before you saw Madeline you made advances towards Katherine Scherrer."
"False. She made advances towards me. She asked me to be her lover, and now she speaks against me out of revenge."
"She has not spoken yet, but she will. Madeline told her that she trembled at the sight of you, and had entreated you not to follow her; but that you would not be shaken off."
"It is my way; I will never be baulked."
"It is true, therefore; you paid no attention to this poor girl's entreaties because it is your way not to allow yourself to be baulked."
"I did not mean that; I was thinking of other matters."
"Katherine Scherrer has a mother."
"Yes; a woman of no account."
"Some time ago this mother informed you, if you did not cease to pester Katherine with your insulting proposals, that she would have you beaten."
"I should like to see the man who would have attempted it."
"That is savagely spoken for one whose nature is kind and affectionate."
"May not a man defend himself? I don't say I am kind and affectionate to men; but I am to women."
"The murdered girl found you so. Hearing from her daughter that Madeline was frightened of you, and did not wish you to follow her, Katherine's mother desired you to let the girl alone."
"She lies."
"They all lie who utter a word against you?"
"Every one of them."
"You never courted Katherine Scherrer?"
"Never."
"Her mother never spoke to you about either her daughter or Madeline?"
"Never."
"Do you know the Widow Joseph?"
"No."
"Madeline lodged in her house."
"What is that to me?"
"Did she never speak to you concerning Madeline?"
"Never."
"Attend. Four nights before Madeline met her death you were seen prowling outside Widow Joseph's house."
"I was not there."
"The Widow Joseph came out and asked you what you wanted."
"She did not."
"You said you must see Madeline. The Widow Joseph went into the house, and returned with the message that Madeline would not see you. Upon that you tried to force your way into the house, and struck the woman because she prevented you. Madeline came down, alarmed at the sounds of the struggle, and begged you to go away, and you said you would, now that you had seen her, as you had made up your mind to. What have you to say to this?"
"A batch
