An Officer and a Spy

After he has finished, Boisdeffre nods gravely. ‘I shall be brief. I confirm General Pellieux’s deposition in all points as exact and authentic. I have not a word more to say, not having the right.’ He turns to the jury. ‘And now, gentlemen, permit me, in conclusion, to say one thing to you. You are the jury; you are the nation. If the nation has no confidence in the commanders of its army, in those who are responsible for the national defence, they are ready to leave this heavy task to others; you have only to speak. I will not say a word more. Monsieur President, I ask your permission to withdraw.’

The judge says, ‘You may withdraw, General. Bring in the next witness.’

Boisdeffre turns and walks towards the exit to loud applause from all around the court. As he passes me, his gaze flickers for an instant across my face and a muscle twitches slightly in his cheek. Behind him, Labori is calling: ‘Pardon me, General, I have some questions to put to you.’

The judge tells him to be quiet. ‘You do not have the floor, Maître Labori. The incident is closed.’

His mission accomplished, Boisdeffre continues his steady tread away from the witness stand. Several of the General Staff officers rise to follow him, buttoning their capes.

Labori is still trying to summon him back. ‘Pardon me, General Boisdeffre-’

‘You do not have the floor.’ The judge hammers his gavel. ‘Bring in Major Esterhazy.’

‘But I have some questions to put to this witness. .’

‘It was an incident outside the scope of the trial. You do not have the floor.’

‘I demand the floor!’

It is too late. From the back of the courtroom comes the sound of a door closing — courteously, not slammed — and Boisdeffre’s intervention is over.

After the drama of the last few minutes, the arrival of Esterhazy is an anticlimax. Labori and the Clemenceau brothers can be heard debating in loud whispers whether they should walk out of the trial in protest at Boisdeffre’s extraordinary intervention. The jury — that collection of drapers, merchants and market gardeners — still look stunned at having been threatened by the Chief of the General Staff in person that if they find against the army, the entire High Command will take it as a vote of no confidence and will resign. As for me, I sit shifting in my seat in an agony of conscience as to what I should do next.

Esterhazy — trembling, his unnaturally large and protruding eyes darting constantly this way and that — begins by making an appeal to the jury. ‘I do not know whether you realise the abominable situation in which I am placed. A wretch, Monsieur Mathieu Dreyfus, without the shadow of a proof, has dared to accuse me of being the author of the crime for which his brother is being punished. Today, in contempt of all rights, in contempt of all the rules of justice, I am summoned before you, not as a witness, but as an accused. I protest with all my might against this treatment. .’

I cannot bear to listen to him. Ostentatiously I stand and walk out of the court.

Esterhazy shouts after me, ‘During the last eighteen months there has been woven against me the most frightful conspiracy ever woven against any man! During that time I’ve suffered more than any one of my contemporaries has suffered in the whole of his life. .!’

I close the door on him and search the corridors for Louis until I find him on a bench in the vestibule de Harlay staring at the floor.

He looks up, grim-faced. ‘You realise we have just witnessed a coup d’état? What else is one to call it when the General Staff is allowed to produce a piece of evidence the defence isn’t allowed to see, and then threatens to desert en masse unless a civilian court accepts it? The tactics they used on Dreyfus they are now trying to use on the entire country!’

‘I agree. That’s why I want to be recalled to the witness stand.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Will you tell Labori?’

‘Be careful, Georges — I’m speaking as your lawyer now. You break your oath of confidentiality and they will put you away for ten years.’

As we walk back to the court, I say, ‘There’s something else I’d like you to do for me, if you would. There is an officer of the Sûreté, Jean-Alfred Desvernine. Would you try to contact him discreetly, and say I need to meet him in the strictest confidence? Tell him to keep an eye on the papers, and the day after I’m released I’ll be in the usual place at seven in the evening.’

‘The usual place. .’ Louis makes a note without passing comment.

Back in court, the judge says, ‘Colonel Picquart, what is it you wish to add?’

As I walk towards the stand, I glance across at Henry, sitting crammed in his seat between Gonse and Pellieux. His chest is so vast his arms folded across it appear stubby, like clipped wings.