The History of a Crime. Victor Hugo. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Victor Hugo
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signatures of the titular judges, the Assistants not being qualified when the Court was complete.

      In the meantime it was one o'clock, the news began to spread through the palace that a decree of deposition against Louis Bonaparte had been drawn up by a part of the Assembly; one of the judges who had gone out during the debate, brought back this rumor to his colleagues. This coincided with an outburst of energy. The President observed that it would be to the purpose to appoint a Procureur-General.

      There was a difficulty. Whom should they appoint? In all preceding trials they had always chosen for a Procureur-General at the High Court the Procureur-General at the Court of Appeal of Paris. Why should they introduce an innovation? They determined upon this Procureur-General of the Court of Appeal. This Procureur-General was at the time M. de Royer, who had been keeper of the Seals for M. Bonaparte. Thence a new difficulty and a long debate.

      Would M. de Royer consent? M. Hardouin undertook to go and make the offer to him. He had only to cross the Mercière Gallery.

      M. de Royer was in his study. The proposal greatly embarrassed him. He remained speechless from the shock. To accept was serious, to refuse was still more serious.

      There was risk of treason. On the 2d December, an hour after noon, the coup d'état was still a crime. M. de Royer, not knowing whether the high treason would succeed, ventured to stigmatize the deed as such in private, and cast down his eyes with a noble shame before this violation of the laws which, three months later, numerous purple robes, including his own, endorsed with their oaths. But his indignation did not go to the extent of supporting the indictment. An indictment speaks aloud. M. de Royer as yet only murmured. He was perplexed.

      M. Hardouin understood this state of conscience. Persistence would have been unreasonable. He withdrew.

      He returned to the room where his colleagues were awaiting him.

      In the meantime the Commissary of the Arsenal Police had come back.

      He had ended by succeeding in "unearthing"—such was his expression—the High Court. He penetrated as far as the Council Chamber of the Civil Chamber; at that moment he had still no other escort than the few police agents of the morning. A boy was passing by. The Commissary asked him the whereabouts of the High Court. "The High Court?" answered the boy; "what is that?" Nevertheless the boy told the Librarian, who came up. A few words were exchanged between M. Denevers and the Commissary.

      "What are you asking for?"

      "The High Court."

      "Who are you?"

      "I want the high Court."

      "It is in session."

      "Where is it sitting?"

      "Here."

      And the Librarian pointed to the door.

      "Very well," said the Commissary.

      He did not add another word, and returned into the Mercière Gallery.

      We have just said that he was only accompanied at that time by a few police agents.

      The High Court was, in truth, in session. The President was relating to the judges his visit to the Procureur General. Suddenly a tumultuous sound of footsteps is heard in the lobby which leads from the Council Chamber to the room where they were deliberating. The door opens abruptly. Bayonets appear, and in the midst of the bayonets a man in a buttoned-up overcoat, with a tricolored sash upon his coat.

      The magistrates stare, stupefied.

      "Gentlemen," said the man, "dissolve your meeting immediately."

      President Hardouin rises.

      "What does this mean? Who are you? Are you aware to whom you are speaking?"

      "I am aware. You are the High Court, and I am the Commissary of the Police."

      "Well, then?"

      "Be off."

      There were there thirty-five municipal guards, commanded by a lieutenant, and with a drum at their head.

      "But——" said the President.

      The Commissary interrupted him with these words, which are literally given—

      "Mr. President, I am not going to enter upon an oratorical combat with you. I have my orders, and I transmit them to you. Obey."

      "Whom?"

      "The Prefect of Police."

      The President asked this strange question, which implied the acceptance of an order—

      "Have you a warrant?"

      The Commissary answered—

      "Yes."

      And he handed a paper to the President.

      The judges turned pale.

      The President unfolded the paper; M. Cauchy put his head over M. Hardouin's shoulder. The President read but—

      "You are ordered to dissolve the High Court, and, in case of refusal, to arrest MM. Béranger, Rocher, De Boissieux, Pataille, and Hello."

      And, turning towards the judges, the President added—

      "Signed, Maupas."

      Then, addressing himself to the Commissary, he resumed—

      "There is some mistake, these are not our names. MM. Béranger, Rocher, and De Boissieux have served their time and are no longer judges of the High Court; as for M. Hello, he is dead."

      The High Court, in reality, was temporary and renewable; the coup d'état overthrew the Constitution, but did not understand it. The warrant signed "Maupas" was applicable to the preceding High Court. The coup d'état had been misled by an old list. Such is the heedlessness of assassins.

      "Mr. Commissary of Police," continued the President, "you see that these names are not ours."

      "That does not matter to me," replied the Commissary. "Whether this warrant does or does not apply to you, disperse, or I shall arrest all of you."

      And he added—

      "At once."

      The judges were silenced; one of them picked up from the table a loose sheet of paper, which was the judgment they had drawn up, and put the paper in his pocket.

      Then they went away.

      The Commissary pointed to the door where the bayonets were, and said—

      "That way."

      They went out by the lobby between two ranks of soldiers. The detachment of Republican Guards escorted them as far as the St. Louis Gallery.

      There they set them free; their heads bowed down.

      It was about three o'clock.

      While these events were taking place in the Library, close by, in the former great Chamber of the Parliament, the Court of Cassation was sitting in judgment as usual, without noticing what was happening so near at hand. It would appear, then, that the police exhaled no odor.

      Let us at once have done with this High Court.

      In the evening at half-past seven the seven judges met together at the house of one of their number, he who had taken away the decree; they framed an official report, drew up a protest, and recognizing the necessity of filling in the line left blank in their decree, on the proposition of M. Quesnault, appointed as Procureur-General M. Renouard, their colleague at the Court of Cessation. M. Renouard, who was immediately informed, consented.

      They met together for the last time on the next day, the 3d, at eleven o'clock in the morning, an hour before the time mentioned in the judgment which we have read above—again in the Library of the Court of Cassation. M. Renouard was present. An official minute was given to him, recording his appointment, as well as certain details with which he asked