"Strange mystery of a woman's love! That she who set out to destroy her
slanderer should become his slave! If he were only worthy of it!"
"He is worthy of it."
"If you should hear that he is not worthy--that he has even been untrue
to you?"
"I should think it is a falsehood, a contemptible falsehood."
"But if you had proof, substantial proof, the proof of his own pen?"
"Good-morning! I must go."
"My child, what have I always told you? You will give the man up at last
and carry out your first intention."
With a deep bow and a scarcely perceptible smile the Baron turned to the
open door of his carriage. Roma flushed up angrily and went on, but the
poisoned arrow had gone home.
The military tribunal had begun its session. A ticket which Roma
presented at the door admitted her to the well of the court where the
advocates were sitting. The advocate Fuselli made a place for her by his
side. It was a quiet moment and her entrance attracted attention. The
judges in their red armchairs at the green-covered horse-shoe table
looked up from their portfolios, and there was some whispering beyond
the wooden bar where the public were huddled together. One other face
had followed her, but at first she dared not look at that. It was the
face of the prisoner in his prison clothes sitting between two
Carabineers.
The secretary read the indictment. Bruno was charged not only with
participation in the riot of the 1st of February, but also with being a
promoter of associations designed to change violently the constitution
of the state. It was a long document, and the secretary read it slowly
and not very distinctly.
When the indictment came to an end the Public Prosecutor rose to expound
the accusation, and to mention the clauses of the Code under which the
prisoner's crime had to be considered. He was a young captain of
cavalry, with restless eyes and a twirled-up moustache. His long cloak
hung over his chair, his light gloves lay on the table by his side, and
his sword clanked as he made graceful gestures. He was an elegant
speaker, much preoccupied about beautiful phrases, and obviously anxious
to conciliate the judges.
"Illustrious gentlemen of the tribunal," he began, and then went on
with a compliment to the King, a flourish to the name of the Prime
Minister, a word of praise to the army, and finally a scathing satire on
the subversive schemes which it was desired to set up in place of
existing institutions. The most crushing denunciation of the delirious
idea which had led to the unhappy insurrection was the crude explanation
of its aims. A universal republic founded on the principles enunciated
in the Lord's Prayer! Thrones, armies, navies, frontiers, national
barriers, all to be abolished! So simple! So easy! So childlike! But
alas, so absurd! So entirely oblivious of the great principles of
political economy and international law, and of impulses and instincts
profoundly sculptured in the heart of man!