She trembled a little and leaned against the back of the sofa. It was a dangerous colloquy, she felt, to hold with such a man, but still she put the all important question.
"They tell my husband that it was not by mere accident the ropes broke on that fatal day. How was it, Hartmann?"
"It was accident or something better, if you will, justice perhaps. Our employer had caused alterations to be made in the pumps and lifting-machine, just what was indispensable to keep them working, but nothing to ensure safety. It was the same in this as in everything else. What did it matter if a few hundred miners, constantly going up and down, were every day brought in danger of their lives? Double and treble the loads were lifted, the most outrageous weights were raised, and at last the weights did their work, only this time the victim was not one of the men, but the master himself. It was no man's hand, my lady, which severed the ropes just at the moment when they were bearing him up, and mine least of all. I saw the danger coming, we had just reached the last stage but one. I risked the leap and"----
"You thrust him?" said Eugénie breathlessly, as he paused.
"No, I only let him go. I could have saved him if I would. Half a minute would have been sufficient. I must have risked my own life, it is true; he might have dragged me down with him, but for any one among the men, for any of the officials even, I should have risked it; for that man I could not! In that instant the thought rushed through my head of all the evil he had done us, that the fate now threatening him was only what he had exposed us to, day by day, for nothing but to save money, and that I would not meddle in the matter if for once Providence chose to be just. I did not move a hand, in spite of his cries. Next minute it was too late; the cage had been dashed below and he with it."
Hartmann was silent. Eugénie looked up at him half in pity, half in horror. She knew well enough that the accusations he had heaped on the dead man were merited. Even she, however, would, in a moment of peril, have stretched forth her hand to save the hated Berkow, but the man opposite her had learnt neither to forgive nor forget. He stood quietly by, and saw his enemy perish before his eyes.
"You have told me the whole truth, Hartmann? On your word of honour?"
"On my word of honour."
His eyes met hers without flinching. There was no doubt now in her mind, and she answered reproachfully.
"And why did you not clear up the error? Why did you not speak to the others as you have done to me?"