La reine Margot. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER LVIII.

  THE TORTURE OF THE BOOT.

  It was only when he had been led away to his new cell and the door waslocked on him that Coconnas, left alone, and no longer sustained by thediscussion with the judges and his anger at Rene, fell into a train ofmournful reflections.

  "It seems to me," thought he, "that matters are turning against us, andthat it is about time to go to the chapel. I suspect we are to becondemned to death. It looks so. I especially fear being condemned todeath by sentences pronounced behind closed doors, in a fortifiedcastle, before faces as ugly as those about me. They really wish to cutoff our heads. Well! well! I repeat what I said just now, it is time togo to chapel."

  These words, uttered in a low tone, were followed by a silence, which inturn was broken by a cry, shrill, piercing, lugubrious, unlike anythinghuman. It seemed to penetrate the thick walls, and vibrate against theiron bars.

  In spite of himself Coconnas shivered; and yet he was so brave that hiscourage was like that of wild beasts. He stood still, doubting that thecry was human, and taking it for the sound of the wind in the trees orfor one of the many night noises which seem to rise or descend from thetwo unknown worlds between which floats our globe. Then he heard itagain, shriller, more prolonged, more piercing than before, and thistime not only did Coconnas distinguish the agony of the human tone init, but he thought it sounded like La Mole's.

  As he realized this the Piedmontese forgot that he was confined behindtwo doors, three gates, and a wall twelve feet thick. He hurled hisentire weight against the sides of the cell as though to push them outand rush to the aid of the victim, crying, "Are they killing some onehere?" But he unexpectedly encountered the wall and the shock hurled himback against a stone bench on which he sank down.

  Then there was silence.

  "Oh, they have killed him!" he murmured; "it is abominable! And one iswithout arms, here, and cannot defend one's self!"

  He groped about.

  "Ah! this iron chain!" he cried, "I will take it and woe to him whocomes near me!"

  Coconnas rose, seized the iron chain, and with a pull shook it soviolently that it was clear that with two such efforts he would wrenchit away.

  But suddenly the door opened and the light from a couple of torches fellinto the cell.

  "Come, monsieur," said the same voice which had sounded so disagreeableto him, and which this time, in making itself heard three floors below,did not seem to him to have acquired any new charm.

  "Come, monsieur, the court is awaiting you."

  "Good," said Coconnas, dropping his ring, "I am to hear my sentence, amI not?"

  "Yes, monsieur."

  "Oh! I breathe again; let us go," said he.

  He followed the usher, who preceded him with measured tread, holding hisblack rod.

  In spite of the satisfaction he had felt at first, as he walked alongCoconnas glanced anxiously about him.

  "Oh!" he murmured, "I do not perceive my good jailer. I confess I misshim."

  They entered the hall the judges had just left, in which a man wasstanding alone, whom Coconnas recognized as the Attorney-General. In thecourse of the examination the latter had spoken several times, alwayswith an animosity easy to understand.

  He was the one whom Catharine, both by letter and in person, hadspecially charged with the trial.

  At the farther end of this room, the corners of which were lost indarkness behind a partly raised curtain, Coconnas saw such dreadfulsights that he felt his limbs give away, and cried out: "Oh, my God!"

  It was not without cause that the cry had been uttered. The sight wasindeed terrible. The portion of the room hidden during the trial by thecurtain, which was now drawn back, looked like the entrance to hell.

  A wooden horse was there, to which were attached ropes, pulleys, andother accessories of torture. Further on glowed a brazier, which threwits lurid glare on the surrounding objects, and which added to theterror of the spectacle. Against one of the pillars which supported theceiling stood a man motionless as a statue, holding a rope in his hand.He looked as though made of the stone of the column against which heleaned. To the walls above the stone benches, between iron links, chainswere suspended and blades glittered.

  "Oh!" murmured Coconnas, "the chamber of horrors is all ready,apparently waiting only for the patient! What can it mean?"

  "On your knees, Marc Annibal Coconnas," said a voice which caused thatgentleman to raise his head. "On your knees to hear the sentence justpronounced on you!"

  This was an invitation against which the whole soul of Annibalinstinctively rebelled.

  But as he was about to refuse two men placed their hands on hisshoulders so unexpectedly and so suddenly that his knees bent under himon the pavement. The voice continued.

  "Sentence of the court sitting in the prison of Vincennes on MarcAnnibal de Coconnas, accused and convicted of high treason, of anattempt to poison, of sacrilege and magic against the person of theKing, of a conspiracy against the kingdom, and of having by hispernicious counsels driven a prince of the blood to rebellion."

  At each charge Coconnas had shaken his head, keeping time like afractious child. The judge continued:

  "In consequence of which, the aforesaid Marc Annibal de Coconnas shallbe taken from prison to the Place Saint Jean en Greve to be therebeheaded; his property shall be confiscated; his woods cut down to theheight of six feet; his castles destroyed, and a post planted there witha copper plate bearing an inscription of his crime and punishment."

  "As for my head," said Coconnas, "I know you will cut that off, for itis in France, and in great jeopardy; but as for my woods and castles, Idefy all the saws and axes of this most Christian kingdom to harm them."

  "Silence!" said the judge; and he continued:

  "Furthermore, the aforesaid Coconnas"--

  "What!" interrupted Coconnas, "is something more to be done to me aftermy head is cut off? Oh! that seems to me very hard!"

  "No, monsieur," said the judge, "_before_."

  And he resumed:

  "Furthermore, the aforesaid Coconnas before the execution of hissentence shall undergo the severest torture, consisting of ten wedges"--

  Coconnas sprang up, flashing a burning glance at the judge.

  "And for what?" he cried, finding no other words but these simple onesto express the thousand thoughts that surged through his mind.

  In reality this was complete ruin to Coconnas' hopes. He would not betaken to the chapel until after the torture, from which many frequentlydied. The braver and stronger the victim, the more likely he was to die,for it was considered an act of cowardice to confess; and so long as theprisoner refused to confess the torture was continued, and not onlycontinued, but increased.

  The judge did not reply to Coconnas; the rest of the sentence answeredfor him. He continued:

  "In order to compel the aforesaid Coconnas to confess in regard to hisaccomplices, and the details of the plan and conspiracy."

  "By Heaven!" cried Coconnas; "this is what I call infamous; more thaninfamous--cowardly!"

  Accustomed to the anger of his victims, which suffering always changedto tears, the impassible judge merely made a sign.

  Coconnas was seized by the feet and the shoulders, overpowered, laid onhis back, and bound to the rack before he was able even to see those whodid the act.

  "Wretches!" shouted he, in a paroxysm of fury, straining the bed and thecords so that the tormentors themselves drew back. "Wretches! tortureme, twist me, break me to pieces, but you shall know nothing, I swear!Ah! you think, do you, that it is with pieces of wood and steel that agentleman of my name is made to speak? Go ahead! I defy you!"

  "Prepare to write, clerk," said the judge.

  "Yes, prepare," shouted Coconnas; "and if you write everything I amgoing to tell you you infamous hangmen, you will be kept busy. Write!write!"

  "Have you anything you wish to confess?" asked the judge in his calmvoice.

  "Nothing; not a word! Go to the devil!"
<
br />   "You had better reflect, monsieur. Come, executioner, adjust the boot."

  At these words the man, who until then had stood motionless, the ropesin his hand, stepped forward from the pillar and slowly approachedCoconnas, who turned and made a grimace at him.

  It was Maitre Caboche, the executioner of the provostship of Paris.

  A look of sad surprise showed itself on the face of Coconnas, who,instead of crying out and growing agitated, lay without moving, unableto take his eyes from the face of the forgotten friend who appeared atthat moment.

  Without moving a muscle of his face, without showing that he had everseen Coconnas anywhere except on the rack, Caboche placed two planksbetween the limbs of the victim, two others outside of his limbs, andbound them securely together by means of the rope he held in his hand.

  This was the arrangement called the "boot."

  For ordinary torture six wedges were inserted between the two planks,which, on being forced apart, crushed the flesh.

  For severe torture ten wedges were inserted, and then the planks notonly broke the flesh but the bones.

  The preliminaries over, Maitre Caboche slipped the end of the wedgebetween the two planks, then, mallet in hand, bent on one knee andlooked at the judge.

  "Do you wish to speak?" said the latter.

  "No," resolutely answered Coconnas, although he felt the perspirationrise to his brow and his hair begin to stand on end.

  "Proceed, then," said the judge. "Insert the first wedge."

  Caboche raised his arm, with its heavy mallet, and struck the wedge atremendous blow, which gave forth a dull sound. The rack shook.

  Coconnas did not utter a single word at the first wedge, which usuallycaused the most resolute to groan. Moreover, the only expression on hisface was that of indescribable astonishment. He watched Caboche inamazement, who, with arm raised, half turned towards the judge, stoodready to repeat the blow.

  "What was your idea in hiding in the forest?" asked the judge.

  "To sit down in the shade," replied Coconnas.

  "Proceed," said the judge.

  Caboche gave a second blow which resounded like the first.

  Coconnas did not move a muscle; he continued to watch the executionerwith the same expression.

  The judge frowned.

  "He is a hard Christian," he murmured; "has the wedge entered?"

  Caboche bent down to look, and in doing so said to Coconnas:

  "Cry out, you poor fellow!"

  Then rising:

  "Up to the head, monsieur," said he.

  "Second wedge," said the judge, coldly.

  The words of Caboche explained all to Coconnas. The worthy executionerhad rendered his friend the greatest service in his power: he wassparing him not only pain, but more, the shame of confession, by drivingin wedges of leather, the upper part of which was covered with wood,instead of oak wedges. In this way he was leaving him all his strengthto face the scaffold.

  "Ah! kind, kind Caboche," murmured Coconnas, "fear nothing; I will cryout since you ask me to, and if you are not satisfied it will be becauseyou are hard to please."

  Meanwhile Caboche had introduced between the planks the end of a wedgelarger than the first.

  "Strike," cried the judge.

  At this word Caboche struck as if with a single blow he would demolishthe entire prison of Vincennes.

  "Ah! ah! Stop! stop!" cried Coconnas; "a thousand devils! you arebreaking my bones! Take care!"

  "Ah!" said the judge, smiling, "the second seems to take effect; thatsurprises me."

  Coconnas panted like a pair of bellows.

  "What were you doing in the forest?" asked the judge.

  "By Heaven! I have already told you. I was enjoying the fresh air."

  "Proceed," said the judge.

  "Confess," whispered Caboche.

  "What?"

  "Anything you wish, but something."

  And he dealt a second blow no less light than the former.

  Coconnas thought he would strangle himself in his efforts to cry out.

  "Oh! oh!" said he; "what is it you want to know, monsieur? By whoseorder I was in the forest?"

  "Yes."

  "I was there by order of Monsieur d'Alencon."

  "Write," said the judge.

  "If I committed a crime in setting a trap for the King of Navarre,"continued Coconnas, "I was only an instrument, monsieur, and I wasobeying my master."

  The clerk began to write.

  "Oh! you denounced me, pale-face!" murmured the victim; "but just wait!"

  And he related the visit of Francois to the King of Navarre, theinterviews between De Mouy and Monsieur d'Alencon, the story of the redcloak, all as though he were just remembering them between the blows ofthe hammer.

  At length he had given such precise, terrible, uncontestable evidenceagainst D'Alencon, making it seem as though it was extorted from himonly by the pain,--he grimaced, roared, and yelled so naturally, and inso many different tones of voice,--that the judge himself becameterrified at having to record details so compromising to a son ofFrance.

  "Well!" said Caboche to himself, "here is a gentleman who does not needto say things twice, and who gives full measure of work to the clerk.Great God! what if, instead of leather, the wedges had been of wood!"

  Coconnas was excused from the last wedge; but he had had nine others,which were enough to have crushed his limbs completely.

  The judge reminded the victim of the mercy allowed him on account of hisconfession, and withdrew.

  The prisoner was alone with Caboche.

  "Well," asked the latter, "how are you?"

  "Ah! my friend! my kind friend, my dear Caboche!" exclaimed Coconnas."You may be sure I shall be grateful all my life for what you have donefor me."

  "The deuce! but you are right, monsieur, for if they knew what I havedone it would be I who would have to take your place on the rack, andthey would not treat me as I have treated you."

  "But how did the idea come to you?"

  "Well," said Caboche, wrapping the limbs of Coconnas in bloody bands oflinen; "I knew you had been arrested, and that your trial was going on.I knew that Queen Catharine was anxious for your death. I guessed thatthey would put you to the torture and consequently took my precautions."

  "At the risk of what might have happened?"

  "Monsieur," said Caboche, "you are the only gentleman who ever gave mehis hand, and we all have memories and hearts, even though we arehangmen, and perhaps for that very reason. You will see to-morrow howwell I will do my work."

  "To-morrow?" said Coconnas.

  "Yes."

  "What work?"

  Caboche looked at Coconnas in amazement.

  "What work? Have you forgotten the sentence?"

  "Ah! yes, of course! the sentence!" said Coconnas; "I had forgotten it."

  The fact is that Coconnas had not really forgotten it, but he had notbeen thinking of it.

  What he was thinking of was the chapel, the knife hidden under the altarcloth, of Henriette and the queen, of the vestry door, and the twohorses waiting on the edge of the forest; he was thinking of liberty, ofthe ride in the open air, of safety beyond the boundaries of France.

  "Now," said Caboche, "you must be taken skilfully from the rack to thelitter. Do not forget that for every one, even the guards, your limbsare broken, and that at every jar you must give a cry."

  "Ah! ah!" cried Coconnas, as the two assistants advanced.

  "Come! come! Courage," said Caboche, "if you cry out already, what willyou do in a little while?"

  "My dear Caboche," said Coconnas, "do not have me touched, I beg, byyour estimable acolytes; perhaps their hands are not as light as yours."

  "Place the litter near the racks," said Caboche.

  The attendants obeyed. Maitre Caboche raised Coconnas in his arms as ifhe were a child and laid him in the litter, but in spite of every careCoconnas uttered loud shrieks.

  The jailer appeared with a lantern.

&n
bsp; "To the chapel," said he.

  The bearers started after Coconnas had given Caboche a second grasp ofthe hand. The first had been of too much use to the Piedmontese for himnot to repeat it.