Part 1 Book 7 Chapter 10 The System of Denials
The moment for closing the debate had arrived. The President had the accused stand up, and addressed to him the customary question, "Have you anything to add to your defence?"
The man did not appear to understand, as he stood there, twisting in his hands a terrible cap which he had.
The President repeated the question.
This time the man heard it. He seemed to understand. He made a motion like a man who is just waking up, cast his eyes about him, stared at the audience, the gendarmes, his counsel, the jury, the court, laid his monstrous fist on the rim of woodwork in front of his bench, took another look, and all at once, fixing his glance upon the district-attorney, he began to speak. It was like an eruption. It seemed, from the manner in which the words escaped from his mouth,-- incoherent, impetuous, pell-mell, tumbling over each other,-- as though they were all pressing forward to issue forth at once. He said:--
"This is what I have to say. That I have been a wheelwright in Paris, and that it was with Monsieur Baloup. It is a hard trade. In the wheelwright's trade one works always in the open air, in courtyards, under sheds when the masters are good, never in closed workshops, because space is required, you see. In winter one gets so cold that one beats one's arms together to warm one's self; but the masters don't like it; they say it wastes time. Handling iron when there is ice between the paving-stones is hard work. That wears a man out quickly One is old while he is still quite young in that trade. At forty a man is done for. I was fifty-three. I was in a bad state. And then, workmen are so mean! When a man is no longer young, they call him nothing but an old bird, old beast! I was not earning more than thirty sous a day. They paid me as little as possible. The masters took advantage of my age-- and then I had my daughter, who was a laundress at the river. She earned a little also. It sufficed for us two. She had trouble, also; all day long up to her waist in a tub, in rain, in snow. When the wind cuts your face, when it freezes, it is all the same; you must still wash. There are people who have not much linen, and wait until late; if you do not wash, you lose your custom. The planks are badly joined, and water drops on you from everywhere; you have your petticoats all damp above and below. That penetrates. She has also worked at the laundry of the Enfants-Rouges, where the water comes through faucets. You are not in the tub there; you wash at the faucet in front of you, and rinse in a basin behind you. As it is enclosed, you are not so cold; but there is that hot steam, which is terrible, and which ruins your eyes. She came home at seven o'clock in the evening, and went to bed at once, she was so tired. Her husband beat her. She is dead. We have not been very happy. She was a good girl, who did not go to the ball, and who was very peaceable. I remember one Shrove-Tuesday when she went to bed at eight o'clock. There, I am telling the truth; you have only to ask. Ah, yes! how stupid I am! Paris is a gulf. Who knows Father Champmathieu there? But M. Baloup does, I tell you. Go see at M. Baloup's; and after all, I don't know what is wanted of me."
The man ceased speaking, and remained standing. He had said these things in a loud, rapid, hoarse voice, with a sort of irritated and savage ingenuousness. Once he paused to salute some one in the crowd. The sort of affirmations which he seemed to fling out before him at random came like hiccoughs, and to each he added the gesture of a wood-cutter who is splitting wood. When he had finished, the audience burst into a laugh. He stared at the public, and, perceiving that they were laughing, and not understanding why, he began to laugh himself.
It was inauspicious.
The President, an attentive and benevolent man, raised his voice.
He reminded "the gentlemen of the jury" that "the sieur Baloup, formerly a master-wheelwright, with whom the accused stated that he had served, had been summoned in vain. He had become bankrupt, and was not to be found." Then turning to the accused, he enjoined him to listen to what he was about to say, and added: "You are in a position where reflection is necessary. The gravest presumptions rest upon you, and may induce vital results. Prisoner, in your own interests, I summon you for the last time to explain yourself clearly on two points. In the first place, did you or did you not climb the wall of the Pierron orchard, break the branch, and steal the apples; that is to say, commit the crime of breaking in and theft? In the second place, are you the discharged convict, Jean Valjean-- yes or no?"
The prisoner shook his head with a capable air, like a man who has thoroughly understood, and who knows what answer he is going to make. He opened his mouth, turned towards the President, and said:--
"In the first place--"
Then he stared at his cap, stared at the ceiling, and held his peace.
"Prisoner," said the district-attorney, in a severe voice; "pay attention. You are not answering anything that has been asked of you. Your embarrassment condemns you. It is evident that your name is not Champmathieu; that you are the convict, Jean Valjean, concealed first under the name of Jean Mathieu, which was the name of his mother; that you went to Auvergne; that you were born at Faverolles, where you were a pruner of trees. It is evident that you have been guilty of entering, and of the theft of ripe apples from the Pierron orchard. The gentlemen of the jury will form their own opinion."
The prisoner had finally resumed his seat; he arose abruptly when the district-attorney had finished, and exclaimed:--
"You are very wicked; that you are! This what I wanted to say; I could not find words for it at first. I have stolen nothing. I am a man who does not have something to eat every day. I was coming from Ailly; I was walking through the country after a shower, which had made the whole country yellow: even the ponds were overflowed, and nothing sprang from the sand any more but the little blades of grass at the wayside. I found a broken branch with apples on the ground; I picked up the branch without knowing that it would get me into trouble. I have been in prison, and they have been dragging me about for the last three months; more than that I cannot say; people talk against me, they tell me, `Answer!' The gendarme, who is a good fellow, nudges my elbow, and says to me in a low voice, `Come, answer!' I don't know how to explain; I have no education; I am a poor man; that is where they wrong me, because they do not see this. I have not stolen; I picked up from the ground things that were lying there. You say, Jean Valjean, Jean Mathieu! I don't know those persons; they are villagers. I worked for M. Baloup, Boulevard de l'Hopital; my name is Champmathieu. You are very clever to tell me where I was born; I don't know myself: it's not everybody who has a house in which to come into the world; that would be too convenient. I think that my father and mother were people who strolled along the highways; I know nothing different. When I was a child, they called me young fellow; now they call me old fellow; those are my baptismal names; take that as you like. I have been in Auvergne; I have been at Faverolles. Pardi. Well! can't a man have been in Auvergne, or at Faverolles, without having been in the galleys? I tell you that I have not stolen, and that I am Father Champmathieu; I have been with M. Baloup; I have had a settled residence. You worry me with your nonsense, there! Why is everybody pursuing me so furiously?"
The district-attorney had remained standing; he addressed the President:--
"Monsieur le President, in view of the confused but exceedingly clever denials of the prisoner, who would like to pass himself off as an idiot, but who will not succeed in so doing,-- we shall attend to that,--we demand that it shall please you and that it shall please the court to summon once more into this place the convicts Brevet, Cochepaille, and Chenildieu, and Police-Inspector Javert, and question them for the last time as to the identity of the prisoner with the convict Jean Valjean."
"I would remind the district-attorney," said the President, "that Police-Inspector Javert, recalled by his duties to the capital of a neighboring arrondissement, left the court-room and the town as soon as he had made his deposition; we have accorded him permission, with the consent of the district-attorney and of the counsel for the prisoner."
"That is true, Mr. President," responded the district-attorney. "In the absence of sieur Javert, I think it my duty to remind the gentlemen of the jury of what he said here a few hours ago. Javert is an estimable man, who does honor by his rigorous and strict probity to inferior but important functions. These are the terms of his deposition: `I do not even stand in need of circumstantial proofs and moral presumptions to give the lie to the prisoner's denial. I recognize him perfectly. The name of this man is not Champmathieu; he is an ex-convict named Jean Valjean, and is very vicious and much to be feared. It is only with extreme regret that he was released at the expiration of his term. He underwent nineteen years of penal servitude for theft. He made five or six attempts to escape. Besides the theft from Little Gervais, and from the Pierron orchard, I suspect him of a theft committed in the house of His Grace the late Bishop of D---- I often saw him at the time when I was adjutant of the galley-guard at the prison in Toulon. I repeat that I recognize him perfectly.'"
This extremely precise statement appeared to produce a vivid impression on the public and on the jury. The district-attorney concluded by insisting, that in default of Javert, the three witnesses Brevet, Chenildieu, and Cochepaille should be heard once more and solemnly interrogated.
The President transmitted the order to an usher, and, a moment later, the door of the witnesses' room opened. The usher, accompanied by a gendarme ready to lend him armed assistance, introduced the convict Brevet. The audience was in suspense; and all breasts heaved as though they had contained but one soul.
The ex-convict Brevet wore the black and gray waistcoat of the central prisons. Brevet was a person sixty years of age, who had a sort of business man's face, and the air of a rascal. The two sometimes go together. In prison, whither fresh misdeeds had led him, he had become something in the nature of a turnkey. He was a man of whom his superiors said, "He tries to make himself of use." The chaplains bore good testimony as to his religious habits. It must not be forgotten that this passed under the Restoration.
"Brevet," said the President, "you have undergone an ignominious sentence, and you cannot take an oath."
Brevet dropped his eyes.
"Nevertheless," continued the President, "even in the man whom the law has degraded, there may remain, when the divine mercy permits it, a sentiment of honor and of equity. It is to this sentiment that I appeal at this decisive hour. If it still exists in you,--and I hope it does,--reflect before replying to me: consider on the one hand, this man, whom a word from you may ruin; on the other hand, justice, which a word from you may enlighten. The instant is solemn; there is still time to retract if you think you have been mistaken. Rise, prisoner. Brevet, take a good look at the accused, recall your souvenirs, and tell us on your soul and conscience, if you persist in recognizing this man as your former companion in the galleys, Jean Valjean?"
Brevet looked at the prisoner, then turned towards the court.
"Yes, Mr. President, I was the first to recognize him, and I stick to it; that man is Jean Valjean, who entered at Toulon in 1796, and left in 1815. I left a year later. He has the air of a brute now; but it must be because age has brutalized him; he was sly at the galleys: I recognize him positively."
"Take your seat," said the President. "Prisoner, remain standing."
Chenildieu was brought in, a prisoner for life, as was indicated by his red cassock and his green cap. He was serving out his sentence at the galleys of Toulon, whence he had been brought for this case. He was a small man of about fifty, brisk, wrinkled, frail, yellow, brazen-faced, feverish, who had a sort of sickly feebleness about all his limbs and his whole person, and an immense force in his glance. His companions in the galleys had nicknamed him I-deny-God (Je-nie Dieu, Chenildieu).
The President addressed him in nearly the same words which he had used to Brevet. At the moment when he reminded him of his infamy which deprived him of the right to take an oath, Chenildieu raised his head and looked the crowd in the face. The President invited him to reflection, and asked him as he had asked Brevet, if he persisted in recognition of the prisoner.
Chenildieu burst out laughing.
"Pardieu, as if I didn't recognize him! We were attached to the same chain for five years. So you are sulking, old fellow?"
"Go take your seat," said the President.
The usher brought in Cochepaille. He was another convict for life, who had come from the galleys, and was dressed in red, like Chenildieu, was a peasant from Lourdes, and a half-bear of the Pyrenees. He had guarded the flocks among the mountains, and from a shepherd he had slipped into a brigand. Cochepaille was no less savage and seemed even more stupid than the prisoner. He was one of those wretched men whom nature has sketched out for wild beasts, and on whom society puts the finishing touches as convicts in the galleys.
The President tried to touch him with some grave and pathetic words, and asked him, as he had asked the other two, if he persisted, without hesitation or trouble, in recognizing the man who was standing before him.
"He is Jean Valjean," said Cochepaille. "He was even called Jean-the-Screw, because he was so strong."
Each of these affirmations from these three men, evidently sincere and in good faith, had raised in the audience a murmur of bad augury for the prisoner,--a murmur which increased and lasted longer each time that a fresh declaration was added to the proceeding.
The prisoner had listened to them, with that astounded face which was, according to the accusation, his principal means of defence; at the first, the gendarmes, his neighbors, had heard him mutter between his teeth: "Ah, well, he's a nice one!" after the second, he said, a little louder, with an air that was almost that of satisfaction, "Good!" at the third, he cried, "Famous!"
The President addressed him:--
"Have you heard, prisoner? What have you to say?"
He replied:--
"I say, `Famous!'"
An uproar broke out among the audience, and was communicated to the jury; it was evident that the man was lost.
"Ushers," said the President, "enforce silence! I am going to sum up the arguments."
At that moment there was a movement just beside the President; a voice was heard crying:--
"Brevet! Chenildieu! Cochepaille! look here!"
All who heard that voice were chilled, so lamentable and terrible was it; all eyes were turned to the point whence it had proceeded. A man, placed among the privileged spectators who were seated behind the court, had just risen, had pushed open the half-door which separated the tribunal from the audience, and was standing in the middle of the hall; the President, the district-attorney, M. Bamatabois, twenty persons, recognized him, and exclaimed in concert:--
"M. Madeleine!"
宣告辩论终结的时候到了。庭长叫被告立起来，向他提出这照例有的问题：“您还有什么替自己辩护的话要补充吗？”
这个人，立着，拿着一顶破烂不堪的小帽子在手里转动，好象没有听见。
庭长把这问题重说了一遍。
这一次，这人听见了。他仿佛听懂了，如梦初醒似的动了一下，睁开眼睛向四面望，望着听众、法警、他的律师、陪审员、公堂，把他那个巨大的拳头放在他凳前的木栏杆上，再望了一望。忽然，他两眼紧盯着检察官，开始说话了，这仿佛是种爆裂。他那些拉杂、急迫、夹兀、紊乱的话破口而出，好象每一句都忙着想同时一齐挤出来似的。他说：
“我有这些话要说。我在巴黎做过造车工人，并且是在巴陆先生家中。那是种辛苦的手艺。做车的人做起工来，总是在露天下，院子里，只有在好东家的家里才在棚子里；但是从不会在有门窗的车间里，因为地方要得多，你们懂吧。冬天，大家冷得捶自己的胳膊，为了使自己暖一点；但是东家总不许，他们说，那样会耽误时间。地上冻冰时，手里还拿着铁，够惨的了。好好的人也得垮。做那种手艺，小伙子也都成了小老头儿。到四十岁便完了。我呢，我那时已经五十三岁，受尽了罪。还有那老伙伴，一个个全是狠巴巴的！一个好好的人，年纪大了，他们便叫你做老冬瓜，老畜生！每天我已只能赚三十个苏了，那些东家却还在我的年纪上用心思，尽量减少我的工钱。此外，我从前还有一个女儿，她在河里洗衣服，在这方面她也赚点钱。我们两个人，日子还过得去。她也是够受罪的了。不管下雨下雪，风刮你的脸，她也得从早到晚，把半个身子浸在洗衣桶里；结冰时也一样，非洗不成；有些人没有多一点的换洗衣服，送来洗，便等着换；她不洗吧，就没有活计做了，洗衣板上又全是缝，四处漏水，溅你一身。她的裙子里里外外全是湿的。水朝里面浸。她在红娃娃洗衣厂里工作过，在那厂里，水是从龙头里流出来的。洗衣的人不用水桶，只对着面前的龙头洗，再送到背后的槽里去漂净。因为是在屋子里，身上也就不怎么冷了。可是那里面的水蒸汽可吓坏人，它会把你的眼睛也弄瞎。她晚上七点钟回来。很快就去睡了，她困得厉害。她的丈夫老爱打她。现在她已死了。我们没有过过快活日子。那是一个好姑娘，不上跳舞会，性子也安静。我记得在一个狂欢节的晚上，她八点钟便去睡了。就这样。我说的全是真话。你们去问就是了。呀，是呀，问。我多么笨！巴黎是个无底洞。谁还认识商马第伯伯呢？可是我把巴陆先生告诉你们。你们到巴陆先生家去问吧。除此以外，我不知道你们还要我做什么。”
这个人不开口了，照旧立着。他大声疾呼地说完了那段话，声音粗野、强硬、嘶哑，态度急躁、鲁莽而天真。一次，他停了嘴，向听众中的一个人打招呼。他对着大众信口乱扯，说到态度认真起来时，他的声音就象打噎，而且还加上个樵夫劈柴的手势。他说完以后，听众哄堂大笑。他望着大家，看见人家笑，他莫名其妙，也大笑起来。
这是一种悲惨的场面。
庭长是个细心周到的人，他大声发言了。
他重行提醒“各位陪审员先生”，说“被告说他从前在巴陆车匠师父家里工作过，这些话都用不着提了。巴陆君早已亏了本走了，下落不明。”随后他转向被告，要他注意听他说话，并补充说：
“您现在的处境非慎重考虑不可了，您有极其重大的嫌疑，可能引起极严重的后果。被告，为了您的利益，我最后一次关照您，请您爽爽快快说明两件事：第一，您是不是爬过别红园的墙，折过树枝，偷过苹果，就是说，犯过越墙行窃的罪？第二，您是不是那个释放了的苦役犯冉阿让？”
被告用一种自信的神气摇着头，好象一个懂得很透彻也知道怎样回答的人。他张开口，转过去对着庭长说：
“首先……”
随后他望着自己的帽子，又望着天花板，可是不开口。
“被告，”检察官用一种严厉的声音说，“您得注意，人家问您的话，您全不回答。您这样慌张，就等于不打自招。您明明不是商马第，首先您明明是利用母亲的名字作掩护，改叫让·马第的那个苦役犯冉阿让，您到过奥弗涅，您生在法维洛勒，您在那里做过修树枝工人。您明明爬过别红园的墙，偷过熟苹果。各位陪审员先生，请斟酌。”
被告本已坐下去了，检察官说完以后，他忽然立起来，大声喊道：
“您真黑心，您！这就是我刚才要说的话。先头我没有想出来。我一点东西都没有偷。我不是每天有饭吃的人。那天我从埃里走来，落了一阵大雨，我经过一个地方，那里被雨水冲刷，成了一片黄泥浆，洼地里的水四处乱流，路边的沙子里也只露出些小草片，我在地上寻得一根断了的树枝，上面有些苹果，我便拾起了那树枝，并没有想到会替我惹起麻烦。我在牢里已待了三个月，又被人家这儿那儿带来带去。除了这些，我没有什么好说的；你们和我过不去，你们对我说：‘快回答！’这位兵士是个好人，他摇着我的胳膊，细声细气向我说：‘回答吧。’我不知道怎样解释，我，我没有文化，我是个穷人。你们真不该不把事情弄清楚。我没有偷。我拾的东西是原来就在地上的。你们说什么冉阿让，让·马第！这些人我全不认识。他们是乡下人。我在医院路巴陆先生家里工作过。我叫商马第。你们说得出我是在什么地方生的，算你们有本领。我自己都不知道。世上并不是每个人从娘胎里出来就是有房子的。那样太方便了。我想我的父亲和我的母亲都是些四处找活做的人。并且我也不知道。当我还是个孩子时，人家叫我小把戏，现在，大家叫我老头儿。这些就是我的洗礼名。随便你们怎样叫吧。我到过奥弗涅，我到过法维洛勒，当然！怎么呢？难道一个人没有进过监牢就不能到奥弗涅，不能到法维洛勒去吗？我告诉你们，我没有偷过东西，我是商马第伯伯。我在巴陆先生家里工作过，并且在他家里住过。听了你们这些胡说，我真不耐烦！
为什么世上的人全象怨鬼一样来逼我呢！”
检察官仍立着，他向庭长说：
“庭长先生，这被告想装痴狡赖，但是我们预先警告他，他逃不了，根据他这种闪烁狡猾已极的抵赖，我们请求庭长和法庭再次传讯犯人布莱卫、戈什巴依、舍尼杰和侦察员沙威，作最后一次的讯问，要他们证明这被告是否冉阿让。”
“我请检察官先生注意，”庭长说，“侦察员沙威因为在邻县的县城有公务，在作证以后便立刻离开了公堂，并且离开了本城。我们允许他走了。检察官先生和被告律师都表示同意的。”
“这是对的，庭长先生，”检察官接着说，“沙威君既不在这里，我想应把他刚才在此地所说的话，向各位陪审员先生重述一遍。沙威是一个大家尊敬的人，为人刚毅、谨严、廉洁，担任这种下层的重要任务非常称职，这便是他在作证时留下的话：‘我用不着什么精神上的猜度或物质上的证据来揭破被告的伪供。我千真万确地认识他。这个人不叫商马第，他是从前一个非常狠毒、非常凶猛的名叫冉阿让的苦役犯。他服刑期满被释，我们认为是极端失当的。他因犯了大窃案受过十九年的苦刑。他企图越狱，达五六次之多。除小瑞尔威窃案和别红园窃案外，我还怀疑他在已故的迪涅主教大人家里犯过盗窃行为。当我在土伦当副监狱官时，我常看见他。我再说一遍，我千真万确地认识他。’”
这种精确无比的宣言，在听众和陪审团里，看来已产生一种深刻的印象。检察官念完以后，又坚请（沙威虽已不在）再次认真传讯布莱卫、舍尼杰和戈什巴依三个证人。
庭长把传票交给一个执达吏，过一会，证人室的门开了。在一个警卫的保护下，执达吏把犯人布莱卫带来了。听众半疑半信，心全跳着，好象大家仅共有一个灵魂。
老犯人布莱卫穿件中央监狱的灰黑色褂子。布莱卫是个六十左右的人，面目象个企业主，神气象流氓，有时是会有那种巧合的。他不断干坏事，以致身陷狱中，变成看守一类的东西，那些头目都说：“这人想找机会讨好。”到狱中布道的神甫们也证明他在宗教方面的一些好习惯。我们不该忘记这是复辟时代的事。
“布莱卫，”庭长说，“您受过一种不名誉的刑罚，您不应当宣誓……”
布莱卫把眼睛低下去。
“可是，”庭长接着说，“神恩允许的时候，即使是一个受过法律贬黜的人，他心里也还可以留下一点爱名誉、爱平等的情感。在这紧急的时刻，我所期望的也就是这种情感。假使您心里还有这样的情感，我想是有的，那么，在回答我以前，您先仔细想想，您的一句话，一方面可以断送这个人，一方面也可以使法律发出光辉。这个时刻是庄严的，假使您认为先前说错了，您还来得及收回您的话。被告，立起来。布莱卫，好好地望着这被告，回想您从前的事情，再凭您的灵魂和良心告诉我们，您是否确实认为这个人就是您从前监狱里的朋友冉阿让。”
布莱卫望了望被告，又转向法庭说：
“是的，庭长先生。我第一个说他是冉阿让，我现在还是这么说。这个人是冉阿让。一七九六年进土伦，一八一五年出来。我是后一年出来的。他现在的样子象傻子，那么，也许是年纪把他变傻了，在狱里时他早已是那么阴阳怪气的。我的的确确认识他。”
“您去坐下，”庭长说，“被告，站着不要动。”
舍尼杰也被带进来了，红衣绿帽，一望便知是个终身苦役犯。他原在土伦监狱里服刑。是为了这件案子才从狱中提出来的。他是个五十左右的人，矮小、敏捷、皱皮满面，黄瘦、厚颜、暴躁，在他的四肢和整个身躯里有种孱弱的病态，但目光里却有一种非常的力量。他狱里的伙伴给了他一个绰号叫“日尼杰”①。
①“日尼杰”（JeCnieCDieu）和“舍尼杰”（Chenildieu）音相近。但却有“我否认上帝”的意思。
庭长向他说的话和他刚才向布莱卫说过的那些话，大致相同。他说他做过不名誉的事，已经丧失了宣誓的资格，舍尼杰在这时却照旧抬起头来，正正地望着观众。庭长教他集中思想，象先头问布莱卫一样，问他是否还认识被告。
舍尼杰放声大笑。
“当然！我认识不认识他！我们吊在一根链子上有五年。
你赌气吗，老朋友？”
“您去坐下。”庭长说。
执达吏领着戈什巴依来了。这个受着终身监禁的囚犯，和舍尼杰一样，也是从狱中提出来的，也穿一件红衣，他是卢尔德地方的乡下人，比利牛斯山里几乎近于野人的人。他在山里看守过牛羊，从牧人变成了强盗。和这被告相比，戈什巴依的蛮劲并不在他之下，而愚痴却在他之上。世间有些不幸的人，先由自然环境造成野兽，再由人类社会造成囚犯，直到老死，戈什巴依便是这里面的一个。
庭长先说了些庄严动人的话，想感动他，又用先头问那两个人的话问他，是不是能毫无疑问地、毫不含胡地坚决认为自己认识这个立在他面前的人。
“这是冉阿让，”戈什巴依说，“我们还叫他做千斤顶，因为他气力大。”
这三个人的肯定，明明是诚恳的，凭良心说的，在听众中引起了一阵阵乱哄哄的耳语声，每多一个人作出了肯定的回答，那种哄动的声音也就越强，越延长，这是一种不祥的预兆。至于被告，他听他们说着，面上露出惊讶的样子，照控诉词上说，这是他主要的自卫方法。第一个证人说完话时，他旁边的法警听见他咬紧牙齿低声抱怨道：“好呀！有了一个了。”第二个说完时他又说，声音稍微大了一点，几乎带着得意的神气：
“好！”第三个说完时他喊了出来：“真出色！”
庭长问他：
“被告，您听见了。您还有什么可说的？”
他回答：
“我说‘真出色！’”
听众中起了一片嘈杂的声音，陪审团也几乎受到影响。这人明明是断送了。
“执达吏，”庭长说，“教大家静下来，我立刻要宣告辩论终结。”
这时，庭长的左右有人动起来。大家听到一个人的声音喊道：
“布莱卫，舍尼杰，戈什巴依！看这边。”
听见这声音的人，寒毛全竖起来了，这声音太凄惨骇人了。大家的眼睛全转向那一方。一个坐在法官背后，优待席里的旁听者刚立起来，推开了法官席和律师席中间的那扇矮栏门，立到大厅的中间来了。庭长、检察官、巴马达波先生，其他二十个人，都认识他，齐声喊道：
“马德兰先生！”