A Nest of Spies Part 80

The audience on the whole was favourably disposed towards this well-known contributor to _La Capitale_. They knew that on many occasions this well-informed journalist had rendered immense services to honest folk and to society in general by placing his intelligence and energy at the service of every good cause.

Then there was one strong indisputable point in his favour. Though he had escaped from prison with the help of an unknown person, he had returned, had given himself up, declaring he would not leave the Council of War except by the big door with head held high, his innocence established.

The president announced:

"We shall now call the names of the witnesses."

There was silence in the court-room while a sergeant who filled the office of crier to the court, read out the names from a list in his hands. The call-over lasted ten minutes. Most of the witnesses were officers and men belonging to the garrisons of Verdun and Chalons.

Among these witnesses as they defiled before the tribunal Fandor recognised some whose faces were graven on his memory during his brief sojourn in the Saint Benoit barracks.

The first call resounded through the court-room:

"Inspector Juve!"

Juve approached the tribunal, proved he was present, then, in conformity with the law, left the court-room, as did the other witnesses called.

The presence of Juve rea.s.sured and comforted Fandor. Had not Juve said to him:

"You must face your judges, little son; but I am greatly deceived if a certain incident which will occur in the course of the hearing will not alter the speech for the government from the first to the last!"

More than this Juve could not be got to say: he had put on his most enigmatic manner and closed his lips.

The president of the Council addressed Fandor:

"Accused! Stand up!"

The president stared hard at the prisoner with his pale clear eyes like porcelain expressing neither thoughts nor feelings.

Fandor stood erect, waiting.

An hour had gone by.

Juve, the first witness called, was finishing his evidence. Of all the witnesses, he alone could give precise details which would confirm or nullify Fandor's statements.

Juve had given a rapid sketch of Fandor's adventurous career, but had carefully omitted to mention that Fandor's real name was Charles Rambert.[11]

[Footnote 11: See Fantomas Series: vols. i, ii, iii.]

His defence of his friend was a eulogy.

Nevertheless, the revelations of Juve did not simplify the problem as regards the grave charges of murder and spying brought against the prisoner.

When Juve had finished his panegyric, the president spoke to the point:

"All this is very well, gentlemen, very well--but the affair grows more and more complicated, and who will come forward to elucidate it?"

From the back of the court came a sound, sharp-cut, clear:

"I!"

The sensation was immense. Members of the Council looked at one another. There was a disturbance at the back of the room: the crowd swayed, and peered, and whispered.

The colonel-president frowned. He scrutinised the close-packed swaying ma.s.s. He shot a question at it.

"Who spoke?"

Sharp, distinct, a monosyllable was shot back.

"I!"

Someone, pushing a way through the audience, was approaching the military tribunal.

A murmur rose from the crowd.

"Silence!" shouted the colonel. He swept the crowd with an angry eye: he threatened.

"I warn you! At the least manifestation, favourable or otherwise, I shall have the room cleared: we are not here to amuse ourselves. I do not authorise anyone, either by gesture or by speech, to comment on what is taking place within these walls."

Having obtained comparative quiet, the colonel looked squarely at the person who had approached the witness-stand and was facing the military tribunal.

This would-be witness was a young woman, elegantly clad. She wore black furs, and a dark veil partially concealing her features, but revealing the strange pallor of her face. The audience, who had a view of the newcomer's back, noted her ma.s.ses of tawny red hair, set off by a fur toque.

The colonel put her to the question at once.

"You are the person who said 'I'?"

The young woman was greatly moved, but she answered firmly:

"Yes, Monsieur. That is so."

"Who are you, Madame?"

The witness collected her forces, pressed her hand to her heart as though to still its frantic beating: paused. In a clear strong voice she made her declaration:

"I am Mademoiselle Berthe: I am better known as Bobinette."

Exclamations from the crowd, craning necks, peering eyes, murmurs.

When the excitement was suppressed, the colonel interrogated Bobinette.

"Why have you taken upon yourself to interrupt the proceedings of the court?"

"You asked, Monsieur, who could clear up this unfortunate affair. I am ready to tell you everything. Not only is it a duty imposed on me by my conscience, it is also my most ardent wish."

The judges were in earnest consultation. Commandant Dumoulin was shaking his head. He was angrily opposed to this witness being heard, a witness who had appeared so inopportunely to trouble the majesty of the sitting.

The counsel for the defence intervened.