My idea was to obtain from the prisoner just such a circumstantial account of his movements as I thought it likely the magistrate would have extracted from him; and I felt that I had the power to succeed where the magistrate had failed. This power I determined to use.
I was taken into the man's cell, and left there without a word. He was still bound; his brute face was even more brute and haggard than before, his hair was matted, his eyes had a look in them of mingled terror and ferocity. He spoke no word, but he raised his head and lowered it again when the door of the cell was closed behind me.
"What is your name?" I asked. But I had to repeat the question twice before he answered me.
"Pierre," he said.
"Why did you not reply to me at once?" But to this question, although I repeated it also twice, he made no response.
"It is useless," I said sternly, "to attempt evasion with me, or to think that I will be content with silence. I have come here to obtain a confession from you--a true confession, Pierre--and I will force it from you, if you do not give it willingly. Do you understand me? I will force it from you."
"I understand you," he said, keeping his face averted from me, "but I will not speak."
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because you know all; because you are only playing with me; because you have a design against me."
His words astonished me, and made me more determined to carry out my intention. He had made it clear to me that there was something hidden in his mind, and I was resolved to get at it.