“Because he does not know where the crime was committed.”
“And do you know?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“This morning after reaching here I followed the traces of blood from Savin’s wound, and finally I came to the place where he received the fatal shot.”
“Andoche speaks in this manner,” sneered Bruno, “because the snow now has obliterated all marks.”
“Well, show us the spot where the bullet was fired,” said Jean Manant.
Going about twenty paces farther, at random, Bruno stopped.
“Here is the spot,” he boldly asserted.
“What stupidity,” muttered Léocadia Faillot to herself. “Why can’t they believe a man when he declares himself guilty? What a set of dunces! If I were the justice, do you think I would listen to that bear of a Manant or that soak of an Andoche?”