“Justice cannot stoop to such expedients.” Then he added, seeing how disappointed Crochard looked,—
“You had better try and recollect all you can. Have you forgotten or concealed nothing that might assist us in carrying out this examination?”
“No; I think I have told you every thing.”
“You cannot furnish any additional evidence of the complicity of Justin Chevassat, of his efforts to tempt you to commit this crime, or of the forgery he committed in getting up a false set of papers for you?”
“No! Ah, he is a clever one, and leaves no trace behind him that could convict him. But, strong as he is, if we could be confronted in court, I’d undertake, just by looking at him, to get the truth out of him somehow.”
“You shall be confronted, I promise you.”
The prisoner seemed to be amazed.
“Are you going to send for Chevassat?” he asked.
“No. You will be sent home, to be tried there.”
A flash of joy shone in the eyes of the wretch. He knew the voyage would not be a pleasant one; but the prospect of being tried in France was as good as an escape from capital punishment to his mind. Besides, he delighted in advance in the idea of seeing Chevassat in court, seated by his side as a fellow-prisoner.