Demange grabbed the back of his client’s tunic and tried to tug him down into his seat. ‘Leave it to me, Captain,’ I heard him whisper. ‘That’s what you’re paying me for.’ Unwillingly, Dreyfus sat. Demange rose and said, ‘Monsieur President, this is hearsay evidence — an outrage to justice. The defence absolutely demands that this informant be called so that he can be cross-examined. Otherwise, none of what has just been said has any legal weight whatsoever. Major Henry, at the very least you must tell us this man’s name.’
Henry looked at him with contempt. ‘It’s obvious you know nothing about intelligence, Mâitre Demange!’ He waved his cap at him. ‘There are some secrets an officer carries in his head that even his cap isn’t allowed to know!’
That brought Dreyfus to his feet again — ‘This is outrageous!’ — and once again Maurel gavelled for order.
‘Major Henry,’ said Maurel, ‘we will not demand the name, but do you affirm on your honour that the treasonous officer referred to was Captain Dreyfus?’
Henry slowly raised a fat and stubby forefinger and pointed to the picture of Christ above the judges’ heads. In a voice as fervent as a priest’s he proclaimed: ‘I swear it!’
I described the exchange to Mercier that evening.
He said, ‘You make it sound highly dramatic.’
‘I think one may safely say that if Major Henry ever leaves the army, the Comédie-Française will stand ready to receive him.’
‘But will his evidence have the desired effect?’
‘In terms of theatre it was first class. Whether it carries much weight legally is another question.’
The minister sat back low in his chair and made a steeple of his fingers. He brooded. ‘Who are the witnesses tomorrow?’
‘In the morning, the handwriting expert, Bertillon; in the afternoon, the defence is producing witnesses to Dreyfus’s good character.’
‘Who?’
‘Family friends — a businessman, a doctor, the Chief Rabbi of Paris-’
‘Oh, good God!’ cried Mercier. It was the first time I had seen him display emotion. ‘How absurd is this? Do you imagine the Germans would permit such a circus? The Kaiser would simply have a traitor in his army put against a wall and shot!’ He propelled himself out of his chair and went over to the fireplace. ‘This is one of the reasons why we lost in ’70 — we completely lack their
I replied without hesitation, ‘Show it to the court.’
‘We can’t — that would mean showing it to Dreyfus. We could, perhaps, show it to the judges, in confidence, so that they can see what we’re dealing with.’
‘Then I would do it.’
He glanced at me over his shoulder. ‘Even though it breaks all the rules of legal procedure?’
‘I can only say that if you don’t, there’s a chance he may be acquitted. Under the circumstances, some would say it is your duty.’
I was telling him what he wanted to hear. Not that it would have made any difference. He would have done it anyway. I left him still poking at his fire.
The following morning Bertillon gave his evidence. He came in laden with various charts and handwriting samples which he passed out to the judges, and to the defence and the prosecution. He set up an easel with a complicated diagram involving arrows. ‘Two handwriting experts,’ he said, ‘have maintained that Dreyfus wrote the
He paced up and down the confined space, dark and hirsute, like a small ape in a cage. He talked very rapidly. Occasionally he pointed at the chart.
‘Gentlemen, you will see that I have taken the
