"I did not know her."
Once more was Gautran silent. What he desired now to say raised up images so terrifying that he had not the courage to give it utterance.
"You are in deep shadow, my friend," said the Advocate, "body and soul. Shall I tell you what is in your mind?"
"You can do that?"
"You wish to know if I was acquainted with the unhappy girl with whose murder you were charged."
"Is there another in the world like you?" asked Gautran, with fear in his voice. "Yes, that is what I want to know."
"I was not acquainted with her."
Gautran retreated a step or two, in positive terror. "Then what," he exclaimed, "in the fiend's name made you come forward?"
"At length," said the Advocate, "we arrive at an interesting point in our conversation. I thank you for the opportunity you afford me in questioning my inner self. What made me come forward to the assistance of such a scoundrel? Humanity? No. Sympathy? No. What, then, was my motive? Indeed, friend, you strike home. Shall I say I was prompted by a desire to assist the course of justice--or by a contemptible feeling of vanity to engage in a contest for the simple purpose of proving myself the victor? It was something of both, mayhap. Do you know, Gautran, a kind of self-despisal stirs within me at the present moment? You do not understand me? I will give you a close illustration. You are a thief."
"Yes, master."