‘Where is it?’
‘I—I lent it to—to my friend Riskoff.’
‘You lent it to him!’ exclaimed the Judge ironically.
‘Yes.’
‘Why did you lend it to him?’
‘Because he asked for it.’
‘Ah! very likely,’ remarked the Judge, still more ironically. ‘Why did he ask you for it?’
‘He told me he was starting at once to visit his estates, and as he was without a revolver mine would be useful to him.’
‘Why did you take your revolver to his house?’
The Judge glanced at his assistants as he asked this question, then fixed a searching glance on the suspected man’s ghastly white face. Mrs. Ivanoff also gazed at her husband with staring eyes, and waited breathlessly for his answer. She had been led to a chair, and her friends were crowding round her; but with outstretched arms she kept them back, so that they might not obstruct her view of her husband, who stood motionless as a statue, save for the rapid rising and falling of his chest; and he was white as a statue, while his hands were clenched firmly together.