The Frontier Part 24

"Capital! But our meeting with the soldier, the pursuit ... he must have told you that all this took place in France?"

"Yes, I seemed to understand ..."

"We've got them!" shouted Morestal. "We've got them! Of course, I was quite easy in my mind.... But all the same, Philippe's evidence, the declaration of the dying private.... Ah, the brigands, they'll have to let go their prey!... We were in France, kind friends! There has been a violation of the frontier!"

Philippe saw that he had gone too far; and he objected:

"My evidence is not evidence in the proper sense of the word.... As for the soldier, I could hardly make out ..."

"We've got them, I tell you. The little that you were able to see, the little that you were able to hear all agrees with my own evidence, that is to say, with the truth. We've got them! And here come the gentlemen from the public prosecutor's office, who will be of my opinion, I bet you what you like! And it won't take long either! Jorance will be free to-morrow."

He dropped the pen, which he had taken up in order to write his report himself, and went quickly to the window, attracted by the sound of a motor-car sweeping round the garden-lawn:

"The sub-prefect," he said. "By Jove, so the government know about it!

The examining-magistrate and the prosecutor.... Ha, ha, they are not wasting any time, I see!... Quick, mother, have them shown in here....

I'll be back in a minute: I must just put on a collar and change my jacket...."

"Father!"

Morestal stopped in the doorway:

"What is it, my boy?" he asked.

"I have something to say to you," said Philippe, resolutely.

"All right. But it'll keep until presently, won't it?"

"I have something to say to you now."

"Oh! In that case, come along with me. Yes, you can give me a hand, instead of Victor, who is out."

And, laughing, he went to his room.

Marthe involuntarily took a few steps, as though she proposed to be present at the conversation. Philippe experienced a momentary embarra.s.sment. Then he quickly made up his mind:

"No, Marthe, you had better stay."

"But ..."

"No, once more, no. Excuse me. I will explain later...."

And he followed his father.

As soon as they were alone, Morestal, who was thinking much more about his evidence than about Philippe's words, asked, casually:

"Is it private?"

"Yes ... and very serious," Philippe declared.

"Nonsense!"

"Very serious, as you will see in a moment, father.... It's about a position in which I find myself placed, a horrible position which I don't know how to get out of, unless ..."

He went no further. Acting under an instinctive impulse, thrown off his balance by the arrival of the examining-magistrate and by a sudden vision of the events to come, he had appealed to his father. He wanted to speak, to say the words that would deliver him. What words? He did not quite know. But anything, anything rather than give false evidence and affix his signature to a lying deposition!

He stammered at first, while his brain refused to act, seeking in vain for an acceptable solution. How was he to stop on the downward course along which he was being dragged by a combination of hostile forces, accidents, coincidences and implacable, trifling facts? How was he to break through the circle which a cruel fate was doing its utmost to trace around him?

It suddenly burst in upon him that the only possible way out lay in proclaiming the immediate truth, in bluntly revealing his conduct.

He shuddered with disgust. What! Accuse Suzanne! Was that the half-formed idea that inspired him, unknown to himself? Had he really thought of ruining her in order that he might be saved? It was now that he first realized the full nature of his predicament, for he would a thousand times rather have died than dishonour the girl, even in his father's eyes alone.

Morestal, who had finished dressing, chaffed him:

"Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Yes.... I made a mistake," replied Philippe. "I thought ..."

He was leaning on the window-rail and looked out inertly at the large sort of park formed by the cl.u.s.tering trees and the undulating meadows of the Vosges. He was now obsessed by other thoughts, which mingled with his own anxiety. He went back to old Morestal:

"Are you quite sure that the arrest took place on French soil?"

"Upon my word, you must be mad!"

"It's possible that, without noticing it, you crossed the frontier-line...."

"Yes ... exactly ... so we did. But, at the moment of the first attack and again at the moment of the arrest, we were in France. There is no doubt about that."

"Just think, father, if there were the slightest doubt!..."

"Well, what then? What do you mean?"

"I mean that this incident will have further consequences. The affair will create a noise."

"What do I care? The truth comes first, surely? Once we are in the right, we are bound to see that our rights are recognized and that Jorance is released."

Morestal planted himself firmly in front of his son:

"You're of my way of thinking, I suppose?"

"No."

"How do you mean, no?"

"Listen, father: the circ.u.mstances seem to me to be very serious. The examining-magistrate's enquiry is most important. It will serve as a basis for later enquiries. It seems to me that we ought to reflect and give our evidence with a certain reserve, with caution.... We must behave prudently...."