He did n't seem to think much about his damaged costume, but still
dragged me along, across a courtyard, up some very filthy stairs, down
a dark corridor, then up another flight, and, passing into a large
ante-room, where a messenger was seated in a kind of glass cage, he
pushed aside a heavy curtain of green baize, and we found ourselves in
a court, which, if not crowded like that below, was still sufficiently
filled, and by persons of respectable exterior. There was a dead silence
as we entered. The three judges were examining their notes, and handing
papers back and forward to each other in dumb show. The procureur
was picking his teeth with a paper-knife, and the clerk of the court
munching a sandwich, which he held in his hat. Vanhoegen, however,
brushed forward to a prominent place, and beckoned me to a seat beside
him. I had but time to obey, when the clerk, seeing us in our places,
bolted down an enormous mouthful, and, with an effort that nearly choked
him, cried ont, "L'affaire de Dodd fils est en audience." My heart
drooped as I heard the words. The "affaire de Dodd fils" could mean
nothing but that confounded duel of which I have already told you. All
the misfortune and all the criminality seemed to fall upon us. For at
least four times a week I was summoned somewhere or other, now before a
civil, now a military auditor; and though I swore repeatedly that I knew
nothing about the matter till it was all over, they appeared to think
that if I was well tortured, I might make great revelations. They were
not quite wrong in their calculations. I would have turned "approver"
against my father rather than gone on in this fashion. But the
difficulty was, I had really nothing to tell. The little I knew had
been obtained from others. Lord George had told me so much as I was
acquainted with; and, from my old habits of the bench at home, I was
well aware that such could not be admitted as evidence.
Still it was their good pleasure to pursue me with warrants and
summonses, and there was nothing for it but to appear when and wherever
they wanted me.
"Is this confounded affair the cause of my passport being detained?"
whispered I to Van.
"Precisely," said he; "and if not very dexterously handled, the expense
may be enormous."
I almost lost all self-possession at these words. I had been a mark for
legal pillage and robbery from the first moment of my arrival, and it
seemed as if they would not suffer me to leave the country while I had
a Napoleon remaining. Stung nearly to madness, I resolved to make one
desperate effort at rescue, and, like some of those woebegone creatures
in our own country who insist on personal appeals to a Chief Justice,
I called, "Monsieur le Président--" There, however, my French left me,
and, after a terrible struggle to get on, I had to continue my address
in the vernacular.
"Who is this man?" asked he, sternly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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