"Not in my own, madame. I am merely an agent, and am not in any danger. You are a principal."
"A principal! What is that?"
"Your knowledge of our language, Madame Lourbet, is almost perfect; one might take you for a native, you speak English so fluently. But at your wish I will explain what I mean by my use of the word. It is that of a man or a woman who, without actually committing a crime, aids in its perpetration.
"I defy you to prove that I knew of it," she cried.
"I have not finished—though your denial, being in the past tense (a point of grammar, madame), is partial proof that it does not apply to the present. By the term 'principal' I mean also a man or a woman who, not being a witness of the crime, assists afterwards in keeping those who are guilty out of the hands of justice, and who, at the same time, assists in fixing that crime upon the innocent. That affects you, madame, and if you persist in shielding the guilty, you will see the inside of a prison door. I am going to be quite plain with you. Some years ago you, being then in Paris, entered the service of a gentlemen who is now in prison on a charge of murder."
"I did not. I entered the service of a lady."
"John Fordham's wife. In English law it is the same. You were John Fordham's servant. You came to England with him and his wife and exercised authority in his house. I am acquainted with every particular of your conduct during the years you remained with them. You hated your master, and conspired against him. Your mistress was a drunkard, and you secretly supplied her with liquor."
"She gave me orders, and I obeyed them."
"You went much further than that, madame. You invented lying stories against your master, you gave secret evidence against him. I could entertain you for an hour with the details of your treachery and that of other enemies of his with whom you were in collusion. It succeeded too well. It drove him from his home, it drove him from his country. Confess, madame, that I am well informed."
"I confess nothing. I wait."