The man looked up, and recognising the Advocate, recoiled, muttering:
"Aye, aye--I see who it is."
"And you would rob me, wretch!"
"Not now, master, not now. Your voice--it was the voice of another man. I crave your pardon, humbly."
"So--you recommence work early, Gautran. Have you not had enough of the gaol?"
"More than enough. Don't be hard on me, master; call me mad if you like."
"Mad or sane, Gautran, every man is properly made accountable for his acts. Take this to heart."
"It won't do me any good. What is a poor wretch to do with nothing but empty pockets?"
"You are a dull-witted knave, or you would be aware it is useless to lie to me. Gautran, I can read your soul. You wished to speak to me in the court. Here is your opportunity. Say what you had to say."
"Give me breathing time. You've the knack of driving the thoughts clean out of a man's head. Have you got a bit of something that a poor fellow can chew--the end of a cigar, or a nip of tobacco?"