“Let them search.”
“They are doing it now, and not only in your room, but also elsewhere. They will soon know if you have invested any money, or if you have deposited it with any of your acquaintances.”
“I may have brought some money with me from home.”
“No; for you have told me that you could no longer live in Paris, finding no work.”
Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet, made such a sudden and violent start, that the surgeon thought he was going to attack the magistrate. He felt he had been caught in a net the meshes of which were drawing tighter and tighter around him; and these apparently inoffensive questions assumed suddenly a terrible meaning.
“Just answer me in one word,” said the magistrate. “Did you bring any money from France, or did you not?”
The man rose, and his lips opened to utter a curse; but he checked himself, sat down again, and, laughing ferociously, he said,—
“Ah! you would like to ‘squeeze’ me, and make me cut my own throat. But luckily, I can see through you; and I refuse to answer.”
“You mean you want to consider. Have a care! You need not consider in order to tell the truth.”
And, as the man remained obstinately silent, the magistrate began again after a pause, saying,—