The Frontier Part 31

M. de Trebons at once informed M. Le Corbier, who, escorted by the German officer, walked towards the road, while M. de Trebons showed the Morestal family in.

The tent, which was a fairly large one, was furnished with a few chairs and a table, on which lay the papers dealing with the case. A page lay open bearing Saboureux's clumsy signature and the mark made by Old Poussiere.

The Morestals were sitting down, when a sound of voices struck their ears and, through the opening in the fly of the tent, they caught sight of a person in a general's uniform, very tall, very thin, looking like a bird of prey, but presenting a fine appearance in a long black tunic.

With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he was striding along the road in the company of the under-secretary.

Morestal whispered:

"The Statthalter.... They have already had one meeting, an hour ago."

The two men disappeared at the end of the b.u.t.te, then returned and, this time, doubtless embarra.s.sed by the propinquity of the German officers, penetrated a few paces into French territory.

A word, here and there, of the conversation reached the tent. Then the two speakers stood still and the Morestals distinctly heard the Statthalter's voice:

"Monsieur le ministre, my conclusion is necessarily different from yours, because all the police-officers who took part in the arrest are unanimous in declaring that it was effected on German soil."

"Commissary Jorance and M. Morestal," objected M. Le Corbier, "state the contrary."

"They are alone in saying so."

"M. Philippe Morestal took the evidence of Private Baufeld."

"Private Baufeld was a deserter," retorted the Statthalter. "His evidence does not count."

There was a pause. Then the German resumed, in terms which he picked slowly and carefully:

"Therefore, monsieur le ministre, as there is no outside evidence in support of either of the two contradictory versions, I can find no argument that would tend to destroy the conclusions to which all the German enquiries have led. That is what I shall tell the emperor this evening."

He bowed. M. Le Corbier took off his hat, hesitated a second and then, making up his mind:

"One word more, your excellency. Before finally going back to Paris, I determined to call the Morestal family for the last time. I will ask your excellency if it would be possible for Commissary Jorance to be present at the interview. I will answer for him on my honour."

The Statthalter appeared embarra.s.sed. The proposal evidently went beyond his powers. Nevertheless, he said, decisively:

"You shall have your wish, monsieur le ministre. Commissary Jorance is here, at your disposal."

He clapped his heels together, raised his hand to his helmet and gave the military salute. The interview was ended.

The German crossed the frontier. M. Le Corbier watched him walk away, stood for a moment in thought and then returned to the French tent.

He was surprised to find the Morestals there. But he gave a gesture as though, after all, he was rather pleased than otherwise at this accident and he asked M. de Trebons:

"Did you hear?"

"Yes, monsieur le ministre."

"Then do not lose a moment, my dear Trebons. You will find my car at the bottom of the hill. Go to Saint-elophe, telephone to the prime minister and communicate the German reply to him officially. It is urgent. There may be immediate measures to be taken ... with regard to the frontier."

He said these last words in a low voice, with his eyes fixed on the two Morestals, went out with M. de Trebons and accompanied him as far as the French camp.

A long silence followed upon his disappearance. Philippe, clenching his fists, blurted out:

"It's terrible ... it's terrible...."

And turning to his father:

"You are quite sure, I suppose, of what you are swearing?... Of the exact place?..."

Morestal shrugged his shoulders.

Philippe insisted:

"It was at night.... You may have made a mistake...."

"No, no, I tell you, no," growled Morestal, angrily. "I know what I am talking about. You'll end by annoying me."

Marthe tried to interfere:

"Come, Philippe.... Your father is accustomed to ..."

But Philippe caught her by the arm and, roughly:

"Hold your tongue ... I won't allow it.... What do you know?... What are you meddling for?"

He broke off suddenly, as though ashamed of his anger, and, in a fit of weakness and uncertainty, murmured an apology:

"I beg your pardon, Marthe.... You too, father, forgive me.... Please forgive me.... There are situations in which we are bound to pardon one another for all the pain that we can give one another."

Judging by the contraction of his features, one would have thought that he was on the verge of crying, like a child trying to restrain its tears and failing in the effort.

Morestal stared at him in amazement. His wife looked at him aslant and felt fear rising within her, as at the approach of a great calamity.

But the tent opened once more. M. Le Corbier entered. Special Commissary Jorance, who had been brought to the French camp by the German gendarmes, was with him.

Jorance simply nodded to the Morestals and asked:

"Suzanne?"

"She is well," said Marthe.

Meanwhile, Le Corbier had sat down and was turning over the papers.

With his three-cornered face, ending in a short, peaked beard, his clean-shaven upper-lip, his sallow complexion and his black clothes, he wore the solemn mien of a Protestant divine. People said of him that, in the days of the Revolution, he would have been Robespierre or Saint-Just. His eyes, which expressed sympathy and almost affection, belied the suggestion. In reality, he was a conscientious man, who owed the gravity of his appearance to an excessive sense of duty.

He closed the bundles of papers and sat thinking for some time. His lips formed silent syllables. He was obviously composing his speech. And he spoke as follows, in a confidential and friendly tone which was infinitely perturbing:

"I am going back in an hour. In the train, I shall draw up a report, based on these notes and on the respective depositions which you have made or which you will make to me. At nine o'clock this evening, I shall be with the prime minister. At half-past nine, the prime minister will speak in the chamber; and he will speak according to the substance of my report. This is what I wish you to understand above all things.

Next, I want you to know the German reply, I want you to realize the great, the irretrievable importance of every word which you utter. As for me, feeling as I do the full weight of my responsibilities, I wish to seek behind those words, beyond yourselves, whether there is not some detail unperceived by yourselves which will destroy the appalling truth established by your evidence. What I am seeking is--I tell you so frankly--a doubt on your part, a contradiction. I am seeking it ..."