“They have abducted her? Ah!”
Bonacieux inferred from this “Ah” that the affair grew more and more intricate.
“They have abducted her,” added the commissary; “and do you know the man who has committed this deed?”
“I think I know him.”
“Who is he?”
“Remember that I affirm nothing, Monsieur the Commissary, and that I only suspect.”
“Whom do you suspect? Come, answer freely.”
M. Bonacieux was in the greatest perplexity possible. Had he better deny everything or tell everything? By denying all, it might be suspected that he must know too much to avow; by confessing all he might prove his good will. He decided, then, to tell all.
“I suspect,” said he, “a tall, dark man, of lofty carriage, who has the air of a great lord. He has followed us several times, as I think, when I have waited for my wife at the wicket of the Louvre to escort her home.”
The commissary now appeared to experience a little uneasiness.