The Chief Justice: A Novel

"What? That you should pay her a visit? Certainly it is impossible, and if you play any pranks of that kind-"

"Oh! Dr. Berger," said the old man imploringly. "I did but ask your advice because my heart is literally bursting. Well, if this is impossible, I have another favour, and this you will do me! Greet our poor young lady from me! Thus, with these words: 'Old Franz sends Fräulein Victorine his best wishes from all his heart-and begs her not to despair… and-and wants to remind her that the God above is still living.'"

Berger could scarcely understand his last words for the tears that choked, the old man's voice. He himself was moved; as yesterday, so to-day, Franz's tears strongly affected him, for the old servant was not particularly soft by nature. "Yes, yes, Franz," he promised, and then betook himself to the prison. He resolved to continue to be quite candid with Victorine, but not to mention the result of the appeal by a single word.

But when he entered her cell, she came joyfully to meet him, her eyes glistening with tears. "How shall I thank you?" she cried much moved trying to take his hand.

He fell back a step. "Thank me? – What for?"

"Oh, I know," she said softly with a look at the door as if an eavesdropper might have been there. "My father told me that it was not official yet. He hurried to me this morning as soon as he had received the news, but it is still only private information, and for the present I must tell nobody! Whom else have I to thank but you?"

"What?" he asked. And he added with an unsteady voice: "I have not seen him for the last few days. Has he had news from Vienna?"

"To be sure! The Supreme Court has pardoned me. My imprisonment during trial is to be considered as punishment. In a few weeks I shall be quite free."

Berger felt all the blood rush to his heart. "Quite free!" he repeated faintly. "In a few weeks!" And at the same time he was tortured by the importunate question: "Great God! he has surely gone mad? How could he do this? What is his object?"

"Merciful Heaven!" she cried. "How pale you have turned. How sombre you look! Merciful Heaven! you have not received other news? He has surely not been deceived? Oh, if I had to die after all! – now-now-"

She staggered. Berger took her hand and made her sink down on to the nearest chair. "I have no other news," he said as firmly as possible. "It came upon me with such a shock! I am surprised that he has not yet told me anything. But then, of course, he did not hear of it till to-day. If he has told you, you can, of course, look upon it as certain."

"May I not?" She sighed with relief. "I need not tremble any more? Oh, how you frightened me!"

"Forgive me-calm yourself!"

He took up his hat again.

"Are you going already? And I have not yet half thanked you!"

"Don't mention it!" he said curtly, parrying her remark. "Au revoir," he added with more friendliness, and leaving the cell, hurried to Sendlingen's residence.

He had just come in; Berger approached him in great excitement. "I have just been to see Victorine," he began. "How could you tell this untruth? How could you?"

Sendlingen cast down his eyes. "I had to do it. I was afraid that otherwise the news of her condemnation might reach her."

"No," cried Berger. "Forgive my vehemence," he then continued. "I have reason for it. Such empty pretexts are unworthy of you and me. You yourself see to the regulation of the Courts and the prison. The Accused never hear their sentence until they are officially informed."

"You do me an injustice," replied Sendlingen, his voice still trembling, and it was not till he went on that he recovered himself: "I have no particular reasons that I ought or want to hide from you. I told her in an ebullition of feeling that I can hardly account for to myself. When I saw her to-day she was much sadder, much more hopeless, than has been usual with her lately. She certainly had a presentiment-and I, in my flurry at this, feared that some report might already have reached her. Such a thing, in spite of all regulations, is not inconceivable; chance often plays strange pranks. In my eager desire to comfort her, those words escaped me. The exultation with which she received them, robbed me of the courage to lessen their favourable import afterwards! That is all!"

Berger looked down silently for a while. "I will not reproach you," he then resumed. "How fatal this imprudence may prove, you can see as well as I. She was prepared for the worst and therefore anything not so bad, might perhaps have seemed like a favour of Heaven. Now she is expecting the best, and whatever may be obtained for her by way of grace, it will certainly dishearten and dispirit her. But there is no help for it now! Let us talk of what we can help! You want me to lodge a petition for pardon? It would be labour in vain!"

"Well," said Sendlingen hesitatingly, "in some cases the Emperor has revoked the sentence of death in spite of the decision of the Supreme Court."

"Yes, but we dared not build on this hope if we had no other. Fortunately this is the case. You must go to Vienna; only on your personal intercession is the pardon a certainty. And my petition could at best only get the sentence commuted to imprisonment for life, whereas your prayer would obtain a shorter imprisonment and, after a few years, remission of the remainder. You must go to-morrow, Victor-there is no time to lose."

Sendlingen turned away without a word.

"How am I to understand this?" cried Berger, anxiously approaching him. "You will not?"

The poor wretch groaned aloud, "I will-" he exclaimed. "But later on-later on-. As soon as your petition has been dispatched."

"But why?" cried Berger. "I have hitherto appreciated and sympathised with your every sentiment and act, but this delay strikes me as being unreasonable, unpardonable. I would spare you if less depended on the cast, but as it is, I will speak out. It is unmanly, it is-" He paused. "Spare me having to say this to you, to you who were always so brave and resolute. There is no time to lose, I repeat. Who will vouch that it may not then be too late? If my petition is rejected, the Court will at the same time order the sentence to be carried out. Do you know so certainly that you will still be here then, that you will still have time then to hurry to Vienna? Think! Think!"

Berger had been talking excitedly and paused out of breath. But he was resolved not to yield and was about to begin again when Sendlingen said: "You have convinced me; I will go to Vienna sooner, even before the dispatch of your petition."

"Then you still insist that I shall proceed with it?"

"Please; it can do no harm; it may do good. And at least we shall gain time by it. I cannot undertake the journey to Vienna until the inquiry against the working men is ended. In this, too, there is not a day to be lost; neither Dernegg nor I know whether there is not an order on the road that may in some way make us harmless. I trust we shall by that time have succeeded in proving that no punishable offence has been committed. I have received the Minister's telegram to-day, and at once replied that the inquiry was so complicated, and had already proceeded so far, that a change in the examining Judges would be impracticable."

"I am glad that you have followed my advice," said Berger. "And in spite of these aggravated conditions! You hesitated as long as the decision was not known to you, as long as you simply feared it, and when your fears were confirmed, you were brave again and did not hesitate for an instant in doing your duty as an honourable man! Victor, few people would have done the like!" He reached out his hand to say good-bye. "You have now taken old Franz into your confidence?" he asked, "another participator in the secret-it would have been well to consider it first! But I will not begin to scold again. Adieu!"

CHAPTER XI

More than two weeks had passed since this last interview. January of 1853 was drawing to a close and still there seemed no likelihood of an end to the investigations against the workmen.

Berger observed this with great anxiety. He had long since presented the petition for pardon: the time was drawing near when it would be laid before the Emperor, and yet, whenever the subject of the journey to Vienna arose, Sendlingen had some reason or motive for urging that he could not leave and that there was still time. When he made such a remark Berger looked at him searchingly, as if he were trying to read his inmost soul and then departed sadly, shaking his head. Every day Sendlingen's conduct seemed to him more enigmatical and unnatural. For this was the one means of saving Victorine's life! If he still hesitated it could only proceed from fear of the agony of the moment, from cowardice!

But as often as Berger might and did say this to himself, he did not succeed in convincing himself. For did not Sendlingen at the same time evince in another matter and where the welfare and sufferings of strangers to him were concerned, a moral courage rarely found in this country and under this government.

The conflict between Sendlingen and the Minister of Justice had gradually assumed a very singular character; it had become a "thoroughly Austrian business," as Berger sometimes thought with the bitter smile of a patriot. To Sendlingen's respectful but decided answer, the Minister had replied as rudely and laconically as possible, commanding him to hand over the investigation forthwith to Werner. No one could now doubt any longer that a further refusal would prove dangerous, and Sendlingen sent his rejoinder, – a brief dignified protest against this unjustifiable encroachment-with the feeling that he had at the same time undersigned his own dismissal. And indeed in any other country a violent solution would have been the only one conceivable; but here it was different. Certainly a severe censure from the Minister followed and he talked of "further steps" to be taken, but the lightning that one might have expected after this thunder, did not follow. The same result, was, however, sought by circuitous means, attempts were made to weary the two Judges and to put them out of conceit with the case. When they proposed to the Court that the case against one of the Accused might be discontinued, the Crown-Advocate promptly opposed it and called the Supreme Court to his assistance. With all that, the police were feverishly busy and overwhelmed the two Judges by repeatedly bringing forward new grounds of suspicion against the prisoners, and these had to be gone through however evidently worthless they might be at the first glance.

There was not a single person attached to the Law-Courts with all their diversity of character, who did not follow the struggle of Sendlingen for the independence of the Judge's position, with sympathy, and the townspeople were unanimous in their enthusiastic admiration. This courageous steadfastness was all the more highly reckoned as it was visibly undermining his strength. His hair grew gray, his bearing less erect, and his face now almost always bore an expression of melancholy disquiet. People were not surprised at this; it must naturally deeply afflict this man who was so manifestly designed to attain the highest places in his profession, perhaps even to become the Chief Judge of the Empire-to be daily and hourly threatened with dismissal.

Only the three participators in the secret, and Berger in particular, knew that the unhappy man could scarcely endure any longer the torture of uncertainty about his child's fate. All the more energetic, therefore, were Berger's attempts to put an end at least to this unnecessary torment but again and again he spoke in vain.

This occurred too on the last day in January. Sendlingen stood by his answer: "There is still time, the petition has not yet come into the Emperor's hands," and Berger was sorrowfully about to leave his Chambers, when the door was suddenly flung open and Herr von Werner rushed in.

"My Lord," cried the old gentleman almost beside himself with joy and waving a large open letter in his hand like a flag, "I have just received this; this has just been handed to me. It means that I am appointed your successor, it is the decree."

Sendlingen turned pale. "I congratulate you," he said with difficulty. "When are you to take over the conduct of the Courts?"

"On the 22nd February," was the answer. "Oh, how happy I am! And you I am sure will excuse me! Why should the news distress you? You will in any case be leaving here at the end of February to-" he, stopped in embarrassment. "To go to Pfalicz as Chief Justice of the Higher Court there," he continued hastily. "We will continue to believe so, to suppose the contrary would be nonsensical. You have annoyed the Minister and he is taking a slight revenge-that is all! Good-bye, gentlemen, I must hurry to my wife!" The old gentleman tripped away smiling contentedly.

"That is plain enough," said Sendlingen, after a pause, turning to his friend. "My successor is appointed without my being consulted: the decree is sent direct to him and not through me; more than that, I am not even informed at the same time, when I am to hand over the conduct of the Courts to him. To the minister I am already a dead man! But what can it matter to me in my position? Werner's communication only frightened me for a moment, while I feared that I had to surrender to him forthwith. But the 22nd February-that is three weeks hence. By that time everything will be decided."

Two days later, on Candlemas Day, on which in some parts of Catholic Austria people still observe the custom of paying one another little attentions, Sendlingen also received a present from the minister. The letter read thus: "You are to surrender the conduct of the Courts on the 22nd February to the newly appointed Chief Justice, Herr von Werner. Further instructions regarding yourself will be forwarded you in due course."

The tone of this letter spoke plainly enough. For "further instructions" were unnecessary if the previous arrangement-his appointment to Pfalicz-was adhered to. His dismissal was manifestly decreed.

All the functionaries of the Courts fell into the greatest state of excitement: who was safe if Sendlingen fell? And wherever the news penetrated, it aroused sorrow and indignation. On the evening of the same day the most prominent men of the town met so as to arrange a fête to their Chief Justice before his departure. It was determined to present him with an address and to have a farewell banquet.

Berger, who had been at the meeting, left as soon as the resolution was arrived at, and hurried to Sendlingen for he knew that his friend would need his consolation to-day most of all. But Sendlingen was so calm that it struck Berger as almost peculiar. "I have had time to get accustomed to these thoughts," he said.

"How do you think of living now?" asked Berger.

"I shall move to Gratz," replied Sendlingen quickly; he had manifestly given utterance to a long-cherished resolve.

"Won't you be too lonely there?" objected Berger. "Why won't you go to Vienna? By the inheritance from your wife, you are a rich man who does not require to select the Pensionopolis on the Mur on account of its cheapness. In Vienna you have many friends, there you will have the greatest incitement to literary work, besides you may not altogether disappear from the surface. Your career is only forcibly interrupted but not nearly ended. A change of system, or even a change in the members of the Ministry, would bring you back into the service of the State, and, perhaps, to a higher position than the one you are now losing."

"My mind is made up. Brigitta is going to Gratz in a few days to take a house and make all arrangements."

They talked about other things, about the fête that had been arranged to-day. "I will accept the address," Sendlingen explained, "but not the banquet. I have not the heart for it." Berger vehemently opposed this resolution; he must force himself to put in an appearance at least for an hour; the fête had reference not only to himself personally, but to a sacred cause, the independence of Judges. All this he unfolded with such warmth, that Sendlingen at length promised that he would consider it.

The next morning the Vienna papers published the news of the measures taken with regard to Sendlingen, which they had learnt by private telegrams. A severe censorship hampered the Austrian press in those days; the papers had been obliged to accustom the public to read more between the lines than the lines themselves: and this time, too, they hit upon a safe method of criticism. As if by a preconcerted agreement, all the papers pronounced the news highly incredible; and that it was, moreover, wicked to attribute such conduct to the strict but just government which Austria enjoyed. A severer condemnation than this defence of the government against "manifestly malicious reports" could not easily be imagined, and the public understood it as it was intended.

In a moment, Sendlingen's name was in every mouth, and the investigation against the workmen the talk of the day, first in the capital, soon throughout the whole country.

A flood of telegrams and letters, inquiries and enthusiastic commendations, suddenly burst upon Sendlingen. Had there been room in his poor heart, in his weary tormented brain, for any lucid thought or feeling, he would now have been able, in the days of his disgrace, to have held up his head more proudly than ever. It was not saying too much when Berger told him that a whole nation was now showing how highly it valued him. But he scarcely noticed it and continued, dark and hopeless, to do his duty and to drag on the Sisyphus-task of his investigation in combat with both the police and the Crown lawyers.

Suddenly those hindrances ceased. When Sendlingen one morning entered his Chambers soon after the news of his deposal had appeared in the papers, he for the first time, for weeks, found no information of the police on the table. That might be an accident, but when there was none the second day, he breathed again. The Superintendent of Police at Bolosch was, the zealous servant of his masters; if he in twice twenty-four hours did not discover the slightest trace of high treason, there must be good reason for it. In the same way nothing more was heard from the Crown-Advocate.

"They have almost lost courage in the face of the general indignation!" cried Berger triumphantly. "Franz has just told me that Brigitta is to start the day after to-morrow for Gratz. Let her wait a few days, and so spare the old lady having to make the journey to Pfalicz by the very round about way of Gratz."

"You cannot seriously hope that," said Sendlingen turning away, and so Berger went into Brigitta's room later on to bid her good-bye.

The old lady was eagerly reading a book which she hastily put on one side as he entered. "I am disturbing you," he said. "What are you studying so diligently?"

"Oh, a novel," she replied quickly. Her eyes were red and she must have been crying a great deal lately.

"I thought perhaps it was a description of Gratz," said he jokingly. "It seems to me that you have a genuine fear of this weird city where life surges and swells so mightily!" And he attempted to remove her fears by telling her much of the quiet, narrow life of the town on the Mur.

While he was speaking, the book, which she had laid on her workbox, slid to the ground and he picked it up before she had time to bend down for it. It was a French grammar. "Great heavens!" he cried in astonishment. "You are taking up the studies of your youth again, Fräulein Brigitta?"

The old lady stood there speechless, her face crimson, as if she had been caught in a crime. "I have been told," she stammered, "that-that one can hardly get along there with only German."

"In Gratz?" Berger could not help laughing heartily. "Who has been playing this joke upon you? Reassure yourself. You will get along with the French in Gratz without any grammar." Still laughing, he said good-bye and promised to visit her in Gratz.

Meanwhile the excitement into which the press and the public were thrown by the "Sendlingen incident" grew daily. In Bolosch new proposals were constantly being made, to have the fête on a magnificent and uncommon scale. It did not satisfy the popular enthusiasm that the address to be presented was covered with thousands of signatures. A proposal was made in the town-council to call the principal street after Sendlingen: some of the prominent men of the town wanted to collect subscriptions for a "Sendlingen Fund" whose revenue should be devoted to such officers of the State as, like Sendlingen, had become the victims of their faithfulness to conviction; the gymnastic societies resolved upon a torch-light procession. The chairman of the Committee arranging the festivities-he was the head of the first Banking house of the town-was in genuine perplexity; he still did not know which acts of homage Sendlingen would accept and he sought Berger's interposition.

"Save me," implored the active banker. "People are pressing me and the Chief Justice is dumb. Yesterday I hoped to get a definite answer from him but he broke off and talked of our business."

"Business? What business?" asked Berger.

"I am just doing a rather complicated piece of business for him," answered the Banker. "I thought that you, his best friend, would have known about it. He is converting the Austrian Stock in which his property was hitherto invested, into French, English and Dutch stock, and a small portion of it into ready money."

"Why?" asked Berger in surprise. "He is going to stay in Austria?"

"So I asked," replied the Banker, "and received an answer which I had, willy nilly, to take as pertinent. For he is hardly to be blamed, if after his experiences, his belief in the credit of the State has become a little shaky."

Berger could not help agreeing with this, and therefore did not refer to it in his talk with Sendlingen. With regard to the fête he received a satisfactory answer. Sendlingen without any further hesitation, accepted the banquet and even the torch-light procession. Both were to take place on the 21st February, the last day of his term of office.

All this was telegraphed to Vienna and was bravely used by the papers. Even in Bolosch, they said, these melancholy reports, so humiliating to every Austrian, were not seriously believed; how long would the government hesitate to contradict them? The demand was so universal, the excitement so great, that an official notice of a reassuring character was actually issued. The government, announced an official organ, had in no way interfered with the investigation; that this was evident, the present position of the inquiry, now without doubt near a close, sufficiently proved. With regard, however, to Sendlingen's dismissal there was some "misunderstanding" in question.

As so often before, in the case of the like oracular utterances from a similar source, everybody was now asking what this really meant. Berger thought he had hit the mark and exultingly said to his friend: "Hurrah! they have now entirely lost their courage! They are only temporising so as not to have to admit that public opinion has made an impression upon them."

Sendlingen shrugged his shoulders. "It is all one to me, George," he said.

"Now-that I can understand," replied Berger warmly. "In a few months you will speak differently! When do you go to Vienna?"

Sendlingen reflected. "On the seventeenth I should say," he at length replied hesitatingly. "That is to say if Dernegg and I can really dismiss the workmen on the sixteenth as we hope to do."

This hope was realised; on the 16th February 1852, the workmen were released from prison. Their first step related to Sendlingen: in the name of all, Johannes Novyrok made a speech of thanks of which this was the peroration:

"We know well what we ought to wish you in return for all you have done for us: good-luck and happiness for you and for all whom you love! But mere good wishes won't help you, and we can do nothing for you, although every man of us would willingly shed his blood for your sake, and as to praying, my Lord, it is much the same thing-you may remember, perhaps, what I have already said to you on the subject. And so we can only say: think of us when you are in affliction of mind and you will certainly be cheered! You can say to yourself: 'I have lifted these people out of their misfortune and lessened their burden as much as I could,'-and you will breathe again. For I believe this is the best consolation that any man can have on this poor earth. God bless you! for you are noble and good, and what you do is well done, and sin and evil are far from you. A thousand thanks, my Lord. Farewell!"