But Prosper observed none of these details: his whole attention was concentrated upon the arbiter of his fate, and as he closely examined his face he was convinced that the jailer was right in calling him an honorable man.
M. Patrigent’s homely face, with its irregular outline and short red whiskers, lit up by a pair of bright, intelligent eyes, and a kindly expression, was calculated to impress one favorably at first sight.
“Take a seat,” he said to Prosper.
This little attention was gratefully welcomed by the prisoner, for he had expected to be treated with harsh contempt. He looked upon it as a good sign, and his mind felt a slight relief.
M. Patrigent turned toward the clerk, and said:
“We will begin now, Sigault; pay attention.”
“What is your name?” he then asked, looking at Prosper.
“Auguste Prosper Bertomy.”
“How old are you?”
“I shall be thirty the 5th of next May.”