“But what matters all this to me?” asked Cromillian.
Villefort reflected before answering. Was Cromillian really ignorant, or was he only trying to draw him out before saying anything himself? Then Villefort, as many other rascals have done under similar circumstances, having told what he felt to be the truth, decided to rely in future upon invention. Cromillian had turned his face away and was gazing intently at the blazing wood fire in the fireplace.
“I suppose you know,” Villefort went on, and he watched Cromillian closely to see the effect of his words, “that Manuel Della Coscia is also in Corsica under an assumed name.”
Cromillian turned his head and looked Villefort squarely in the face.
“Under what name did you say?” he asked.
Villefort was dumfounded. This was asking too much—more than he had bargained for. He felt that he must fall back upon the truth, so he replied:
“I do not know.”
“Can you tell me anything more that you do know?”
“I can relate some suspicious circumstances,” said Villefort.
“Go on!”