For sixteen sous daily they gave him a room to himself, with a little iron cot, a chair, and a table. Another franc or two got him his breakfast and dinner, and he was allowed to enjoy them with such appetite as he could command.
No one came near him till next morning, when he was roused from the heavy sleep that had only come to him after dawn by a summons to appear before the Juge d'instruction.
He was led by two policemen to a little room, barely furnished, with one great bureau, or desk, in the centre, at which sat the judge, his back to the window. On one side of him was a smaller desk for the clerk, and exactly opposite a chair for the accused, so arranged that the light beat full upon his face.
"Sit down," said the judge, abruptly.
He was a stern-looking man, dressed all in black, still young, with a cold and impassive face, the extreme pallor of which was heightened by his close-cut, coal-black hair, and his small, piercing, beady black eyes.
"Your name and nationality?"
"Rupert Gascoigne. I am an Englishman, and as such I must at once protest against the treatment I have received."
"You have been treated in accordance with the law—of France. You must abide by it, since you choose to live here. I do not owe you this explanation, but I give it to uphold the majesty of the law."
"I shall appeal to our ambassador."
The judge waved his hand, as though the threat did not affect him.