'Very well,' the Marshal agreed. 'Your request is not unreasonable. A courier shall be sent to the Emperor. But in the meantime the decision does not rest with me. It is for His Excellency to say.'
De Brinevillers shuffled uncomfortably and, with his eyes avoiding Roger's, muttered, 'Prussia is our ally, Monsieur le Colonel. It is my responsibility to maintain harmonious relations with King Frederick William's government, and his Chief Minister has made a personal issue of this. As you are charged with a criminal offence of the first order, he has right on his side. I cannot afford to quarrel with him over a matter that has no bearing on the sovereign rights of France. He has already sent here an escort for you, and a formal demand that you should be handed over. I fear that I must comply with it.'
For several minutes longer Roger argued and pleaded in turn, but without avail. The only concession he could secure was a promise that de Brinevillers would use his influence to ensure that no trial took place until there had been ample time for a courier to go to Paris and return. Five minutes later he was under arrest, sitting beside a lieutenant of Police in a closed carriage that drove off accompanied by a mounted escort.
The carriage halted in the courtyard of a large, bleak building that was obviously a prison. Roger was taken inside and put in a narrow but clean cell. He asked for food and a quarter of an hour later a warder brought him a brodchen, in which had been inserted a thick slice of veal, and a mug holding what looked like coffee. Setting down the mug, the man said with a malicious grin:
'No doubt you'll enjoy this. It's a true Frenchie brew made of acorns, as prescribed for us all now by your pig of an Emperor.'
Roger made no reply, and he knew it would be futile to report the man, as it was quite certain no action would be taken against him for insulting the sovereign of France. He thought it probable that the warder's attitude indicated the way in which most Germans now regarded Napoleon; and it boded no good for him as a Frenchman in one of their prisons.
Next morning he was taken to an office and formally charged with the willful murder of his wife and Hen Baron Ulrich von Haugwitz. Afterwards he was searched, He had already surrendered his sword; now a small dagger he always carried, his money belt and the jewels he was wearing were taken from him. Back in his cell, he congratulated himself on having had the forethought the previous night to conceal between his stockings and the soles of his feet six gold pieces; but, in the worst event, they were nowhere near the sum needed to bribe anyone to help him to escape.
The twelve days that followed seemed interminable to him. The food was edible, but of poor quality. The malicious warder evidently put a little salt into the water he brought, which rendered it impossible to drink, so Roger was reduced to falling back on the filthy acorn coffee; which caused him in turn to curse the Emperor and his Continental System. He asked for books and news sheets and was brought a few, but found the German script so difficult to read that he soon gave up the attempt. In vain he tried to persuade himself that Napoleon could not fail to bring about his release. But Paris was a long way off and the Emperor might have suddenly set off on one of his long journeys to Spain, Italy or Austria. Again, some accident might befall the courier who had been sent to Paris, or von Haugwitz be so set on vengeance as to risk his own future by refusing the Emperor's request for the warrant to be withdrawn.
His fears proved only too well founded. On June 13th, a young man named Menou, who was on the staff of the French Embassy, came to see him. Having expressed the Ambassador's regrets, he reported that no message regarding Roger had been received from the Emperor, although ample time had now elapsed for one to do so; and that Roger's trial had been fixed for two days hence.
To outward appearances, Roger took this bad news calmly, but, although he had been endeavoring to prepare himself for such a blow, his heart lurched and seemed to sink to his boots. Having thanked the young man, he asked that a good lawyer should be provided to defend him; to which Menou replied that one had already been instructed and would come to see him on the following day. There being no more to be said, he then bowed him* self away.
Next morning the lawyer arrived. He proved to be a tired-faced, elderly man, named Johan Peffer. The fact that he was a German filled Roger with fury and further dismay. As a distinguished French officer he felt that he was entitled to some consideration. He had expected de Brinevillers to enquire after his well-being while in prison, perhaps send him a gift of books and wine; and, at the very least, come in person to break the bad news of the Emperor's failure to respond. But the Ambassador had done none of these things. And now, by failing to send a French advocate to undertake the defence, he had shown a callous indifference to Roger's fate that was hard to credit.
But time was short, for the trial was to take place the next day, so there was no longer time left to secure another lawyer. All Roger could do was to repeat to the crop headed Prussian what he had said about the tragedy at Schloss Langenstein when he had declared his innocence at the French Embassy. Herr Peffer made copious notes, asked a few pointless questions, gloomily advised pleading 'guilty' which Roger flatly refused to do then glumly took his departure.
At the trial the next day, no senior representative of the French Embassy was present, only young Monsieur Menou. But the trial having been postponed for a fortnight, in order that a courier could be sent to Paris, had cut two ways. It had given ample time for the prosecution to bring a number of witnesses from the Rhineland; so there were several other faces that Roger recognised among them the Baron's steward, Big Karl, and the coachman whom Roger had forced into driving himself and Georgina to Coblenz.
The evidence by the servants that Roger had been the lover of their mistress and, despite their attempts to prevent him, carried her off, was incontestable. And it would have been useless for him to defend his action by stating that he had learned of a plot to murder them both, which was being hatched by his own wife and the Baron, since he had not a tittle of evidence to support it.
But worse was to come. It emerged that, on the discovery of the bodies, the Baron's doctor had been sent for. He now gave evidence that, having examined them, he was of the opinion that they had both had a powerful drug administered to them. That, Roger needed no telling, was a fact. His object in going to Schloss Langenstein had been to save Georgina from the threat of being murdered by her husband. Knowing that it would prove difficult to get her away, he had bought the drug before leaving Vienna, against the possibility that he might have to drug a powerful watch dog.
The Baron's valet followed the doctor and testified to having found the empty bottle that had contained the drug, on the floor of his master's room. The bottle was then produced.
Next, a quietly dressed, elderly man, whose face Roger vaguely recognised, went into the box. When he gave his name before taking the oath, he also stated that he was an Austrian subject. To Roger's utter consternation, he suddenly realised that the man was the apothecary from whom he had bought the drug. Evidence was then given that, the name of the apothecary being on the bottle, he had been questioned in Vienna. Now he identified Roger as the man to whom he had sold it.
That proved the coup de grace. No-one in the court any longer had the least doubt about Roger's guilt. He was sentenced to be executed one week from that day.