TRIAL BY QUESTION

The court was not full when Manvers and his advocate, with Gil Perez in attendance, took their places; but it filled up gradually, and the Judge of First Instance, when he took his seat upon the tribunal, faced a throng not unworthy of a bull-fight. Bestial, leering, inflamed faces, peering eyes agog for mischief, all the nervous expectation of the sudden, the bloody or terrible were there.

There was the same dead hush when Manuela was brought in as when they throw open the doors of the toril, and the throng holds its breath. Gil Perez drew his with a long whistling sound, and Manvers, who could dare to look at her, thought he had never seen maidenly dignity more beautifully shown. She moved to her place with a gentle consciousness of what was due to herself very touching to see.

The crowded court thrilled and murmured, but she did not raise her eyes; once only did she show her feeling, and that was when she passed near the barrier where the spectators could have touched her by leaning over. More than one stretched his hand out, one at least his walking cane. Then she took hold of her skirt and held it back, just as a girl does when she passes wet paint. This little touch, which made the young men jeer and whisper obscenity, brought the water to Manvers’ eyes. He heard Gil Perez draw again his whistling breath, and felt him tremble. Directly Manuela was in her place, standing, facing the assize, Gil Perez looked at her, and never took his eyes from her again. She was dressed in black, and her hair was smooth over her ears, knotted neatly on the nape of her neck.

The Judge, a fatigued, monumental person with a long face, pointed whiskers, and the eyes of a dead fish, told her to stand up. As she was already standing, she looked at him with patient inquiry; but he took no notice of that. Her self-possession was indeed remarkable. She gave her answers quietly, without hesitation, and when anything was asked her which offended her, either ignored it or told the questioner what she thought of it. From the outset Manvers could see that the Judge’s business was to incriminate her beyond repair. Her plea of guilty was not to help her. She was to be shown infamous.

The examination ran thus:

Judge: “You are Manuela, daughter of Incarnacion Presa of Valencia, and have never known your father?” (Manuela bows her head.) “Answer the Court.”

Manuela: “It is true.”

Judge: “It is said that your father was the gitano Sagruel?”

Manuela: “I don’t know.”

Judge: “You may well say that. Remember that you are condemning your mother by such answers. Your mother sold you at twelve years old to an unfrocked priest named Tormes?”

Manuela: “Yes. For three pesos.”

Judge: “Disgraceful transaction! This wretch taught you dancing, posturing, and all manner of wickedness?”

Manuela: “He taught me to dance.”

Judge: “How long were you in his company?”

Manuela: “For three years.”

Judge: “He took you from fair to fair. You were a public dancer?”

Manuela: “That is true.”

Judge: “I can imagine the court can imagine your course of life during this time. This master of yours, this Tormes, how did he treat you?”

Manuela: “Very ill.”

Judge: “Be more explicit, Manuela. In what way?”

Manuela: “He beat me. He hurt me.”

Judge: “Why so?”

Manuela: “I cannot tell you any more about him.”

Judge: “You refuse?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “The court places its interpretation upon your silence.” (He looked painfully round as if he regretted the absence of the proper means of extracting answers. Manvers heard Gil Perez curse him under his breath.)

The Judge made lengthy notes upon the margin of his docquet, and then proceeded.

Judge: “The young gentleman, Don Bartolome Ramonez, first saw you at the fair of Salamanca in 1859?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “He saw you often, and followed you to Valladolid, where his father Don Luis lived?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “He professed his passion for you, gave you presents?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “You persuaded him to take you away from Tormes?”

Manuela: “No.”

Judge: “What do I hear?”

Manuela: “I said ‘No.’ It was because he said that he loved me that I went with him. He wished to marry me, he said.”

Judge: “What! Don Bartolome Ramonez marry a public dancer! Be careful what you say there, Manuela.”

Manuela: “He told me so, and I believed him.”

Judge: “I pass on. You were with him until the April of this year you were with him two years?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “And then you found another lover and deserted him?”

Manuela: “No. I ran away from him by myself.”

Judge: “But you found another lover?”

Manuela: “No.”

Judge: “Be careful, Manuela. You will trip in a moment. You ran away from Don Bartolome when you were at Pobledo, and you went to Palencia. What did you do there?”

Manuela: “I cannot answer you.”

Judge: “You mean that you will not?”

Manuela: “I mean that I cannot.”

Judge: “This is wilful prevarication again. I have authority to compel you.”

Manuela: “You have none.”

Judge: “We shall see, Manuela, we shall see. You left Palencia on the 12th of May in the company of an Englishman?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “He is here in court?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “Do you see him at this moment?”

Manuela: “Yes.” (But she did not turn her head to look at Manvers until the Judge forced her.)

Judge: “I am not he. I am not likely to have taken you from Palencia and your proceedings there. Look at the Englishman.” (She hesitated for a little while, and then turned her eyes upon him with such gentle modesty that Manvers felt nearer to loving her than he had ever done. He rose slightly in his seat and bowed to her: she returned the salute like a young queen. The Judge had gained nothing by that.) “I see that you treat each other with ceremony; there may be reasons for that. We shall soon see. This gentleman then took you away from Palencia in the direction of Valladolid, and made you certain proposals. What were they?”

Manuela: “He proposed that I should return to Palencia.”

Judge: “And you refused?”

Manuela: “Yes.”

Judge: “Why?”

Manuela: “I could not go back to Palencia.”

Judge: “Why?”

Manuela: “There were many reasons. One was that I was afraid of seeing Esteban there.”

Judge: “You mean Don Bartolome Ramonez de, Alavia?” (She nodded.) “Answer me.”

Manuela: “Yes, yes.”

Judge: “You are impatient because your evil deeds are coming to light. I am not surprised; but you must command yourself. There is more to come.” (Manvers, who was furious, asked his advocate whether something could not be done. Directly her fear of Esteban was touched upon, he said, the Judge changed his tactics. The advocate smiled. “Be patient, sir,” he said. “The Judge has been instructed beforehand.” “You mean,” said Manvers, “that he has been bribed?” “I did not say so,” the advocate replied.)

The Judge returned to Palencia. “What other reasons had you?” was his next question, but Manuela was clever enough to see where her strength lay. “My fear of Esteban swallowed all other reasons.” She saved herself, and with unconcealed chagrin the Judge went on towards the real point.

Judge: “The Englishman then made you another proposal?”

Manuela: “Yes, sir. He proposed to take me to a convent.”

Judge: “You refused that?”

Manuela: “No, sir. I should have been glad to go to a convent.”

Judge: “You, however, accepted his third proposal, namely, that you should be under his protection?”

Manuela: “I was thankful for his protection when I saw Esteban coming.”

Judge: “I have no doubt of that. You had reason to fear Don Bartolome’s resentment?”

Manuela: “I knew that Esteban intended to murder me.”

Judge: “Don Bartolome overtook you. You were riding before the Englishman on his horse?”

Manuela: “Yes. I could not walk. I was ill.”

Judge: “Don Bartolome remained with you until the Englishman ran away?”

Manuela: “He did not run away. Why should he? He went away on his own affairs.”

Judge (after looking at his papers): “I see. The Englishman went away after the pair of you had killed Don Bartolome?”

Manuela: “That is not true. He went away to bathe, and then I killed Esteban with his own knife. I killed him because he told me that he intended to murder me, and the English gentleman who had been kind to me. I confess it I confessed it to the alguazils and the carcelero. You may twist what I say as you will, to please your friends, but the truth is in what I say.”

Judge: “Silence! It is for you to answer the questions which I put to you. You forget yourself, Manuela. But I will take your confession as true for the moment. Supposing it to be true, did you not stab Don Bartolome in the neck in order that you might be free?”

Manuela: “I killed him to defend myself and an innocent person. I have told you so.”

Judge: “Why should Don Bartolome wish to kill you?”

Manuela: “He hated me because I had refused to do his pleasure. He wished to make me bad ”

Judge (lifting his hands and throwing his head up): “Bad! Was he not jealous of the Englishman?”

Manuela: “I don’t know.”

Judge: “Did he not tell you that the Englishman was your lover? Did you not say so to Fray Juan de la Cruz?”

Manuela: “He spoke falsely. It was not true. He may have believed it.”

Judge: “We shall see. Have patience, Manuela. Having slain your old lover, you were careful to leave a token for his successor. You left more than that: your crucifix from your neck, and a message with Fray Juan?”

Manuela: “Yes. I told Fray Juan the whole of the truth, and begged him to tell the gentleman, because I wished him to think well of me. I told him that Esteban ”

Judge: “Softly, softly, Manuela. Why did you leave your crucifix behind you?”

Manuela: “Because I was grateful to the gentleman who had saved my life at Palencia; because I had nothing else to give him. Had I had anything more valuable I would have left it. Nobody had been kind to me before.”

Judge: “You know what he has done with your crucifix, Manuela?”

Manuela: “I do not.”

Judge: “What are you saying?”

Manuela: “The truth.”

Judge: “I have the means of confuting you. You told Fray Juan that you were going to Madrid?”

Manuela: “I did not.”

Judge: “In the hope that he would tell the Englishman?”

Manuela: “If he told the gentleman that, he lied.”

Judge: “It is then a singular coincidence which led to your meeting him here in Madrid?”

Manuela: “I did not meet him.”

Judge: “Did you not meet him a few nights before you surrendered to justice?”

Manuela: “No.”

Judge: “Did you meet his servant?”

Manuela: “I cannot tell you.”

Judge: “Did not the Englishman pay for your lodging in the Carcel de la Corte? Did he not send his servant every day to see you?”

Manuela: “The gentleman was lying wounded at the hotel. He had been stabbed in the street.”

Judge: “We are not discussing the Englishman’s private affairs. Answer my questions?”

Manuela: “I cannot answer them.”

Judge: “You mean that you will not, Manuela. Did you not know that the Englishman caused your crucifix to be set in gold, like a holy relic?”

Manuela: “I did not know it.”

Judge: “We have it on your own confession that you slew Don Bartolome Ramonez in the wood of La Huerca, and you admit that the Englishman was protecting you before that dreadful deed was done, that he has since paid for your treatment in prison, and that he has treasured your crucifix like a sacred relic?”

Manuela: “You are pleased to say these things. I don’t say them. You wish to incriminate a person who has been kind to me.”

Judge: “I will ask you one more question, Manuela. Why did you give yourself up to justice?”

Manuela (after a painful pause, speaking with high fervour and some approach to dramatic effect): “I will answer you, senor Juez. It was because I knew that Don Luis would contrive the death of Don Osmundo if I did not prove him innocent.”

Judge (rising, very angry): “Silence! The court cannot entertain your views of persons not concerned in your crime.”

Manuela: “But ” (She shrugged, and looked away.)

Judge: “You can sit down.”