CHAPTER XXVI
In the summer garden of the Sword Inn, the linden trees were in full bloom. The bees came, sipped, and flew away without asking for the reckoning. But to make up for this, the finches sang without pay; and the swallows circled round, as though dancing a figure in the air, and sometimes shot after a honey-laden bee.
Everything rejoiced in its own way. It was a morning so full of freshness, so full of enjoyment and exuberant life, one could hardly believe that misery still existed in the world.
A horseman trotted up to the garden fence, stopped, dismounted, and gave his horse to the servant, telling him to take it home and say to his wife that if any one asked for him she might send him here; that he would, however, soon be at home.
"Good morning, doctor," called the hostess, from the veranda. "You have come just at the right time. We have this moment tapped a keg of beer."
The physician had already heard that refreshing, enticing sound, that deep thud when the spigot is driven into the keg, and that clear sound when the bung is drawn.
The hostess brought him the first glass. He held it up to let the sun shine through the clear amber liquid, and then drank it with evident enjoyment.
"I had to go out before day this morning, all the way to Hochenbraud," said the doctor, as he drained the glass; then said, "Give me another, for my twins." As he drank the second glass, he told the hostess that he had that morning assisted at the advent of a pair of twins into the world; two fine, healthy boys.
"It is curious that something very extraordinary is always happening to Walderjörgli. His first great grandchildren are twins. It is a blessing that this strong, upright race should go on growing. They are honest-hearted men of the old primitive German type."
"They are shrewd, too," interposed the hostess. The physician went on to say that the primitive Germans must have been crafty rascals, for savages are always cunning.
"But where is our host?"
"Of course he has gone to the trial. There is an actual pilgrimage to-day. As early as half-past three this morning we had sold a whole keg of beer. The witnesses went on the express-train. There were men and women from Berstingen, from Bieringen, from Zusmarsleiten, from everywhere, who had nothing to do with the trial, but went from curiosity. They wanted to see Landolin brought before the court. The station-master says that when a man is on trial for his life the people throng to see his distress. He thinks that people will spare neither pains nor money to gratify their desire to see the misfortunes of others. But the district-forester says that the people go more because they long for something new to break in upon the monotony of every-day life."
The cautious hostess gave this as a report, and not as an opinion of her own.
As soon as the physician said: "Both are true," she cried:
"I am glad to hear you say so. It is pleasant when one gives medicine to have the doctor come and say: 'that was right. I should have prescribed that myself.' But I should like to ask you-"
"What is it?"
"Do you think it possible for Landolin to be acquitted?"
"With God and a jury all things are possible."
"Yes; but then, who killed Vetturi? For he is dead!"
"That question is not on the list."
The hostess went on to tell how Landolin's head-servant, Tobias, had been talking that morning with every one, and cunningly instructing them what to say. How he had said, with a laugh, that the life of such a person as Vetturi was not of enough value to have a man like the ex-bailiff imprisoned an hour for it. Tobias wanted to pay for what they all drank; but-and as she told the story, the hostess' face became a flaming red-she had declared that each person must order her to take pay from Tobias for him; then it would be known what was to be thought of him and what might follow later. Some of them seemed to be frightened at this hint.
The doctor laughed and replied that the rich farmer thought money would do everything; and his son Peter, instigated by his father of course, had offered to sell him their fine horse at a third of its value. They wanted him to testify that Vetturi, who had suffered from severe illness ever since his childhood, was weak and easily injured; so that a fall on level ground might have killed him.
"I am sorry for Thoma," began the hostess. "She was such a stately, fresh-hearted girl; and how well she and the miller, Anton, were suited to one another. He, too, was here this morning. He is one of the witnesses, but he staid in the garden, and kept looking at the medal of honor on his breast. Do you think the trial will be finished in one day?"
The physician could give no opinion, and the hostess continued:
"Our dear good Madame Pfann was going to Landolin's house to spend this sad day with his wife and Thoma. I advised her not to go now. They will need her soon enough.
"I don't believe there is another pure soul like hers in the world. Why, she finds something pure hidden even in a man like Landolin. Our Madame Pfann is a woman such as they had in the time of the Apostles."
"Bravo!" cried the doctor, "I have seen a rare wonder: one woman unreservedly praising another."
"Yes; who can know the judge's wife and not praise her? But she seeks neither praise nor thanks from anybody."
"She needs none. He to whom nature has given the blessing of such a good heart is the possessor of all human good."
The telegraph messenger came into the garden, and handed the physician a dispatch.
"I've got it now," cried the physician, when he had read it. "When does the next express train leave?"
"In seven minutes."
The physician explained to her that the defendant had called for his oral opinion. He left word for his wife that he was called away, and hastened to the station, where he met Thoma, just coming in.
"Are you going too?" asked he.
"No; I just want to send word to my brother to telegraph me the decision as soon as it is announced."
"I will attend to that for you."
The train sped away. Thoma asked the telegraph messenger, who was a brother of the "Galloping Cooper," to wait all night and bring her the dispatch as soon as received.
Thoma walked homeward. From the hill she could see the train in the distance. It sped by hamlets and villages, through newly-mown meadows, past fields where potatoes were being gathered in little heaps. The passengers talked together about the flood which had done such great damage in Switzerland; of the political questions of the day; of the conflict with Rome. The physician heard it all as in a dream. It troubled him that he had after all to testify in Landolin's case. How could the defence hope for any advantage from his testimony?
The train stopped at the county-town. One of the court officers was waiting for him with a carriage, and took him to the court-house. The air within was damp and sultry.
CHAPTER XXVII
Long before day the bell from Landolin's prison cell rang violently. The keeper heard it, but did not hurry in the least.
"You can wait," he said to himself, and dressed leisurely. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, of dignified and imposing appearance. He had been appointed to his excellent position as a reward for bravery in the war, and felt that he carried in his own person the whole dignity of the court. He was gruff, but could, when he chose, be polite and condescending; and he had a reason for being polite to Landolin. Softening his powerful voice as much as he could, he asked what Landolin wanted so early. It was scarcely day. Landolin gave him a bewildered look; then he said,
"I heard the early train whistle. The people from my village have come in it. Go to the Ritter inn and bring my head-servant, Tobias, here. It shall not be to your disadvantage."
"I'm sorry I can't do that. You were bailiff yourself, and you know what the law is."
"Then call my lawyer."
"It's too early."
"It is not too early. I have a right to see my lawyer at any time."
"All right, I'll bring him; but I advise you to compose yourself to-day. If you get so excited, you will be a witness against yourself."
Landolin looked at the keeper as though he wanted to knock him down, but he controlled himself. His face bore the marks of the battle which he, who was formerly so self-willed, had been fighting for weeks, and especially during the past night. Yesterday he had shaved off his full beard, which had grown in the prison; and it was plain that he had grown old very rapidly. The elasticity of his flesh, and the brown, healthy color were gone; and his features were faded and flaccid.
Swallows twittered as they flew hither and thither about the grated window. Landolin whistled a gay tune; and he continued whistling when the key turned in the door, and his lawyer entered.
"So gay already?" said the lawyer; "I hardly knew you. Why! What made you cut off your beard?"
"Why? So the jurymen can recognize me."
"Very good. Now what do you want?"
The lawyer had not uttered a syllable about the early hour. His relation to the accused was that of a physician to his patient. Landolin, however, felt that he must make some excuse for sending for him; and he asked to see the list of jurymen, so that he might determine whom to object to, and whom to accept. First on the list, which was in alphabetical order, was the name of the miller, Armbruster, who had been summoned in Landolin's place.
The lawyer said that he had asked to be excused.
"Hoho!" cried Landolin. "He is just the one I'll keep. Let him find me guilty if he dares! We are not related, and our children are no longer betrothed."
The next on the list was the lumberman, Dietler.
"He wants to be released too," said the lawyer.
"He wants to be released? So do I."
"But he will be angry with us."
"Then you must see that the government counsel keeps him on. Then he'll be for us and against the other side. He has known me a long time. I had almost said ever since wood was cut."
Landolin laughed. The lawyer smiled and looked at Landolin's wily face in astonishment. One after another he struck off all the city people, and the men of higher education. He wished to be tried by farmers. Only one man from the city, the host of the Ritter inn, who was a man ready of speech, was acceptable to him.
"I won't have Baron Discher."
"Why? He is a just man."
"That may be. But he is an enemy of mine because I outbid him at the sale of forest land. You will see," said Landolin in conclusion, "Titus will be the foreman. He hates me heartily; but I know him well. I know that in order to make a grand impression on the rabble, and to give vent to his insolence, and to show me what a great man he is, he will say not guilty, and induce the others to say the same."
The lawyer was careful not to shake Landolin's confidence; and he himself acquired new hope of a favorable result. As he was about leaving, Landolin asked, drawing his hand over his eyes and forehead,
"Is the-Is his mother called as a witness?"
"The government counsel was willing to do without her. I was surprised, but it was a good sign that he is not going to drive you to the wall. A poor, bereaved old mother makes a bad impression on the jury. He is not a bad man. He is, you know, a brother of your district judge's wife."
"That won't help me any."
"I think," continued the lawyer, "I think, the government counsel himself will recommend to the jury to find that there were mitigating circumstances."
"I will not have them find mitigating circumstances," cried Landolin, his face reddening. "You may in my name, by my authority, refuse such a verdict. I know what that means. It is easy for a jury to say guilty when mitigating circumstances are tacked on; but when it's neck or nothing, they think twice before they speak."
"Landolin, we are playing a serious game."
"I know it."
"Do you wish to address the jury yourself?"
"I don't know yet. I am afraid I should make some mistake."
"You can tell me your decision in the court-room. You have the privilege of speaking."
"I never thought of it before. It's come to me since I have been in prison. If I had my life to live over again, I'd like to be a lawyer."
The lawyer urged Landolin to try and sleep a little, for he had a hard day before him, and must husband his strength. He would try to be fresh and strong himself.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Landolin tried to sleep, but he soon sprang up again. A man may sleep as much as he likes after he gets home, but now there is not a moment to be lost. He rang the bell, and very submissively asked the keeper to go for his son Peter, for he wanted to find out if the mother had come.
"What mother?"
"Oh pshaw! The mother of-of-of the poor fellow. Ask right out if Cushion-Kate is here. And tell my son to give you twenty marks for the saint's keeper."
"For the saint's keeper? Where is he?"
"Are you so stupid? Or are you only pretending? The saint's keeper is inside of your coat."
The grim keeper chuckled, and said to himself:
"And just think of people saying that farmers are stupid."
He soon returned, and said that Vetturi's mother had not come, but-
"But what? Not my wife and daughter? I expressly forbade that."
"No, not they; but half the village."
"Did the saint's keeper get anything?"
"Yes," chuckled the keeper. The day had brought him a rich harvest, both from those who were seeking to be dropped from the list of jurymen, and had sought his influence with the different counsel for that purpose, and from the people from the neighboring villages, whom he had promised to let into the court-room before any one else.
Landolin was again alone. He visited, in fancy, the various inns of the city, and the beer-garden near the station. He seemed to hear what the people said-how they could hardly wait for the time when they might see him in the prisoner's seat. Nothing is thought of to-day but whether Landolin will be sentenced to death, or to long imprisonment, or will be acquitted.
Something that was almost a prayer passed through his soul, but he did not utter it; for he could not escape the thought that Cushion-Kate was to-day praying to God for his just punishment. He started back. It seemed to him as though she, herself, had run against him bodily.
The prison door was unlocked. Landolin was led through along passage to the prisoner's waiting-room. The doors and the windows of the large court-room were open; bright sunshine streamed in; the room was empty-soon it would be crowded. The two keepers walked back and forth near Landolin. Loud laughing and talking could be heard from the street before the court-house. Who knows what jokes they were making! Men can still laugh though there is one up here whose heart would fain stand still. Landolin's eyes glistened. He said to himself: "After all I was right in despising the whole world."
In the room in which he was now confined he could hear, as he listened at the door, the tramp of steps through the long corridor. He would have been glad to know whose steps they were. A confused sound of voices reached his ear. At length he plainly heard the words "My father!" It was Peter's voice. No doubt he had called so loud on purpose that his father might hear him. Landolin felt as though he were buried alive. He heard voices and could not answer them. His head swam so that he leaned against the door-post.
The door was unlocked, and Landolin was led into the court-room.
CHAPTER XXIX
His eyes fastened on the floor, with measured steps Landolin entered the room. He seemed about to turn to the jury box, but the keeper laid hold of his arm, and motioned him to the prisoner's dock.
When he reached it he straightened himself with a violent effort, and looked calmly around; but he must have felt something like a veil before his eyes, for he repeatedly drew his hands over them. He saw his son Peter, who nodded to him, but he only answered with a slight motion of his head. He recognized men and women from his and neighboring villages; but Cushion-Kate's red kerchief was not to be seen.
He surveyed the jury with a keen scrutiny. He knew them all. They all stared at him, but no one of them gave him to understand, by so much as a motion of the eyelids: I know you and am friendly to you. The miller was not on the jury.
Who is foreman?
Titus. A red and white variegated pink lies before him on the desk. Now he takes it up and presses it to his large nose. The farmer of Tollhof, called the jester, who sits beside him, hands him an open snuff-box and says something. It is evidently, "Landolin is very much changed." Titus nods, takes a pinch of snuff, and sneezes loudly. The host of the Ritter inn, who is seated on the front bench, turns around, and says, "Your health!" and whispers something to the lumberman, Dietler. Who knows that the fickle host has not abandoned Landolin as a dead man, and commenced paying court to Titus! The other members of the jury are most all well-to-do, comfortable farmers-among them Walderjörgli's son, dressed in the old-time costume, with a red vest-have folded their large hands upon the desks, and look steadily before them.
The solemn, impressive ceremony of taking the oath is over; the witnesses are sent out of the court-room; the charge is read. While the reading is going on, the counselor drums with a large pencil on a volume of the statutes before him. It may be he is gently playing a tune, for he keeps perfect time. He is a young man with a heavy moustache, which he smooths incessantly; and an unframed eye-glass, attached to a broad, black ribbon, is fastened on his left eye. There is something in the appearance of the counselor that suggests a soldierly combativeness, and, in truth, he is an officer of the Landwehr. The glance through the eye-glass, which sparkles strangely, is often turned upon Landolin, and Landolin is uneasy under it. He would like to say: "Please put the glass down," but he may not.
Landolin's lawyer has risen to his feet, and leans on the railing of the prisoner's dock. His hands are thrust in his pantaloon pockets. Sometimes he turns his head and exchanges a few brief words with Landolin.
The charge is manslaughter.
The witnesses are called; and before the first one appears, the lawyer for the defense announces that he has telegraphed for the district physician, for the purpose of obtaining his professional opinion regarding Vetturi's frailty.
CHAPTER XXX
Landolin sat perfectly still, and looked at his hands. They had grown soft and white in prison. Only when a new witness was called, he raised his eyes and watched him narrowly.
The witnesses in favor of the accused spoke hesitatingly. They had seen Vetturi fall on a heap of paving-stones, but whether the stone that had been thrown had gone past him, that they could not say with certainty. The blacksmith, from the upper village, was the only one who was sure that he had seen it quite plainly.
"Take care you don't commit perjury," called out the prosecuting counsel. The lawyer for the defense arose in great excitement, and earnestly protested against this intimidation of the witness. Even the jurymen put their heads together, and whispered to one another. The presiding judge said politely, but with marked decision, to the youthful counselor, that he must leave such matters to him. The counsel for the defense did not let this incident escape him; but made quite a point of it, and it was some little time before matters moved on in their usual quiet way. When Anton was called, Landolin's counsel asked to have the district physician heard first, as he was obliged to leave immediately. But the doctor's testimony proved to be of no importance. Then Anton was called, and all eyes were fastened upon him.
The iron cross on his breast rose and fell, as he breathed deeply and rapidly.
To the preliminary question, as to whether he was related to the prisoner, he answered in a tremulous voice, but in well chosen words, that at the time of the accident he was betrothed to the daughter of the accused.
At this the government counselor moved that Anton should not be sworn, but the counsel for the accused insisted that he should be. The judges retired for consultation. They soon returned, and the presiding judge announced that Anton Armbruster was not to be sworn. He added, however, with impressiveness, that because of Anton's high character for honesty, he should confidently expect him to tell the truth, and the whole truth, with a clear conscience.
"That I will do," said Anton. Every one held his breath, and Landolin clutched the railing of the bench with both hands. Plainly and readily Anton said that it was his conviction that Landolin had not intended to kill Vetturi. Still, he could not say that he had seen the occurrence distinctly. He had just stepped through the gate, holding his betrothed's hand, and had no eyes for any one else.
He drew a long breath, and paused. The counsel for the defense asked him if he did not remember what he had said to Landolin, on his return from the unfortunate man's house. Anton replied that it was Landolin who had spoken, not he.
With soldierly precision he answered each question, and ended by saying that it could not be imagined that a man like Landolin, that a father, would willingly kill a man on the day of his daughter's betrothal.
Without looking toward Landolin, Anton returned to his seat, and when there, he did not look up. His eyes glistened, and his face burned.
When Tobias was called, he came forward with long strides, bowed to the judge, to the jury, and most deeply to his master. He then said, with the utmost assurance in his manner, that he would not have believed that the good-for-nothing Vetturi, who was too lazy to lift a sheaf of grain, could have been able to throw such a stone; but as good luck would have it, the stone had fallen just at his master's feet. Otherwise Vetturi would have been sitting in the prisoner's dock, and his master lying in the grave.
The government counselor tried to drive Tobias into a corner with questions, but he seemed prepared for everything, and gave smiling answers; and at last, even said pertly, that he, who had been there and seen it all, must know what happened better than the counselor.
Fidelis was then called. Some discussion arose as to whether he could be sworn; as he had been Landolin's servant at the time of the occurrence.
Landolin made a good impression by saying that Fidelis was a good fellow, and would say nothing against him out of spite.
At these words of his master, Fidelis seemed disconcerted for a moment, but he soon gave his testimony, briefly and succinctly; that Vetturi had not bent over and picked up a stone, but that his master had thrown one, and that it had seemed to him that it would hit his own head.
The counsel for the defense inquired if any one had spoken to the witness regarding what he had seen. Whereupon the government counsel rejoined that, if such questions were to be allowed, he should put the question whether Tobias had not endeavored to persuade Fidelis to testify otherwise.
"Must I answer?" asked Fidelis.
The presiding judge replied that he need answer neither question.
The examination of witnesses was now closed, and a pause ensued, during which there was a final arming of the forces upon both sides.
It had grown dark and candles were lighted in the court-room. They lit up first the judge's desk, then the jury, then Landolin and his counsel, and at last the spectators, of whom not one seemed to be missing; indeed their numbers had apparently increased.
It was damp and sultry in the room. The battle began.