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It is as I thought. They are going to prison for--But that is their affair, not ours. I advised them as I am advising you, but they insisted on making a statement of their case. That was fatal, for it failed in many respects to corroborate the information supplied by the police. It-"
"What was the charge against them?" whispered Miss Guile, quaking.
She had watched the exit of the tearful young men, one of whom was sobbing bitterly, and a great fear possessed her.
"Of that, Mademoiselle, I am entirely ignorant, but they were unmistakably guilty of denying it, whatever it was."
"Are they going to prison?" she gasped.
"It is not that which causes them to weep so bitterly, but the knowledge that their names are to be posted on the bulletin boards in the Place de l'Opera, the Place de l'Concorde, the--"
"Good Lord!" gasped Robin. "Is _that_ being done?"
"It is M'sieur, and the effect is marvellous. Three months ago the boards were filled with ill.u.s.trious names; to-day there are but few to be found upon them. The people have discovered that the courts are in earnest. The law is obeyed as it never was before. The prisons were crowded to suffocation at one time; now they are almost empty.
It is a good law. To-day a mother can wheel her baby carriage in the thickest of the traffic and run no risk of--Ah, but here is the a.s.sistant prosecutor coming. Permit me to further warn you that you will be placed under oath to tell the absolute truth. The prosecutor will ask but three questions of you: your age, your name and your place of residence. All of them you must answer truthfully, especially as to your names. If it is discovered that you have falsely given a name not your own, the lowest penalty is sixty days in prison, imposed afterwards in addition to the sentence you will receive for violating the traffic laws. I have performed my duty as required by the commissioner. My fee is a fixed one, so you need not put your hand into your pocket, M'sieur. Good day. Mademoiselle--good day, M'sieur." He bowed profoundly and gave way to the impatient prosecutor, who had considerately held himself aloof while the final words were being uttered, albeit he glanced at his watch a couple of times.
"Come," he said, and he did not whisper; "let us be as expeditious as possible. Approach the court. It is--"
"See here," said Robin savagely, "this is too d.a.m.ned high-handed. Are we to have no chance to defend ourselves? We--"
"Just as you please, M'sieur," interrupted the prosecutor patiently.
"It is nothing to me. I receive my fee in any event. If you care to defy the law in addition to what you have already done, it is not for me to object."
"Well, I insist on having--"
A thunderous pounding on the bench interrupted his hot-headed speech.
"Attend!" came in a sharp, uncompromising voice from the bench. "What is the delay? This is no time to think. All that should have been done before. Step forward! _Sergent_, see that the prisoners step forward."
Robin slipped his arm through Miss Guile's, expecting her to droop heavily upon it for support. To his surprise she drew herself up, dis-engaged herself, and walked straight up to the bench, without fear or hesitation. It was Robin who needed an example of courage and fort.i.tude, not she. The chauffeur and footman, s.h.i.+vering in their elegance, already stood before the bench.
"Will you be so kind as to raise your veil, Madam?" spake the court.
She promptly obeyed. He leaned forward with sudden interest. The prosecutor blinked and abruptly overcame the habitual inclination to appear bored. Such ravis.h.i.+ng beauty had never before found its way into that little court-room. Adjacent moustaches were fingered somewhat convulsively by several _sergents de ville._
"Ahem!" said the court, managing with some difficulty to regain his judicial form. "I am compelled by law, Mademoiselle, to warn you before you are placed under oath that the lowest penalty for giving a false name in answer to the charge to be brought against you is imprisonment for not less than sixty days. I repeat this warning to you, young man. Be sworn, if you please."
Robin experienced a queer sense of exultation, not at all lessened by the knowledge that he would be forced to reveal his own ident.i.ty.
Would she call herself Bedelia Guile or would she--"
"State your name, Mademoiselle," said the prosecutor.
CHAPTER XVI
THREE MESSAGES
Miss Guile lowered her head for an instant. Robin could see that her lip was quivering. A vast pity for her took possession of him and he was ashamed of what he now regarded as unexampled meanness of spirit on his own part. She lifted her shamed, pleading eyes to search his, as if expecting to find succour in their fearless depths. She found them gleaming with indignation, suddenly aroused, and was instantly apprehensive. There was a look in those eyes of his that seemed prophetic of dire results unless she checked the words that were rising to his lips. She shook her head quickly and, laying a hand upon his arm, turned to the waiting magistrate.
"My name is--Oh, is there no way to avoid the publicity--" she sighed miserably--"the publicity that--"
"I regret, Mademoiselle, that there is no alternative--" began the Judge, to be interrupted by the banging of the court-room door. He looked up, glaring at the offender with ominous eyes. The polite attendant from the outer corridor was advancing in great haste. He was not only in haste but vastly perturbed.
Despite the profound whack of the magistrate's paper weight on the hollow top of the desk and the withering scowl that went with it, the attendant rushed forward, forgetting his manners, his habits and his power of speech in one complete surrender to nature. He thrust into the hand of the Judge a slip of paper, at the same time gasping something that might have been mistaken for an appeal for pardon but which more than likely was nothing of the sort.
"What is this?" demanded the Judge ferociously.
"Mon dieu!" replied the attendant, rolling his eyes heavenward.
The magistrate was impressed. He took up the slip of paper and read what was written thereon. Then he was guilty of a start. The next instant he had the prosecutor up beside him and then the advocate.
Together they read the message from the outside and together they lifted three pairs of incredulous eyes to stare at the culprits below. There was a hurried consultation in excited whisperings, intermittent stares and far from magisterial blinkings.
Robin bent close to Bedelia's ear and whispered: "We must have killed some one, the way they are acting."
Her face was glowing with triumph. "No. Luck is with us, Mr. Schmidt.
You'll see!"
The magistrate cleared his throat and beamed upon them in a most friendly fas.h.i.+on.
Robin grasped the situation in a flash. His own ident.i.ty had been revealed to the Judge. It was not likely that the daughter of William Blithers could create such lively interest in a French court of justice, so it _must_ be that Gourou or Quinnox had come to the rescue. The court would not think of fining a prince of the royal blood, law or no law!
"M'sieur, Mademoiselle, will you be so good as to resume your seats?
An extraordinary condition has arisen. I shall be obliged to investigate. The trial must be interrupted for a few minutes. Pardon the delay. I shall return as quickly as possible. _Sergent!_ See that Mademoiselle and M'sieur are made comfortable."
He descended from the bench and hurried into the corridor, followed closely by the prosecutor and the advocate, both of whom almost trod on his heels. This may have been due to the fact that they were slighter men and more sprightly, but more than likely it was because they were unable to see where they were going for the excellent reason that they were not looking in that direction at all.
Policemen and attendants, mystified but impressed, set about to make the culprits comfortable. They hustled at least a half dozen roomy chairs out of an adjoining chamber; they procured palm-leaf fans and even proffered the improbable--ice-water!--after which they betook themselves to a remote corner and whispered excitedly at each other, all the while regarding the two prisoners with intense interest. Even the despairing footman and chauffeur exhibited unmistakable signs of life.
"I fancy my friends have heard of our plight, Mr. Schmidt," she said, quite composedly. "We will be released in a very few minutes."
He smiled complacently. He could afford to let her believe that her friends and not his were performing a miracle.
"Your friends must be very powerful," he said.
"They are," said she, with considerable directness.
"Still, we are not out of the sc.r.a.pe yet, Miss Guile," he remarked, shaking his head. "It may be a flash in the pan."
"Oh, please don't say that," she cried in quick alarm. "I--I should die if--if we were to be sent to--"
"Listen to me," he broke in eagerly, for an inspiration had come to him. "There's no reason why you should suffer, in any event.
Apparently I am a suspected person. I may just as well be a kidnapper as not. You must allow me to inform the Judge that I was abducting you, so that he--"
"How absurd!"
"I don't in the least mind. Besides, I too have powerful friends who will see that I am released in a day or two. You--"