P.—It is very strong and serious indeed.
A.—Well, nothing can be more easily explained than that. I am a great smoker. When I left home the evening of the crime, I took cigars in abundance; but, when I was about to light one, I found that I had no matches.
M. Magloire rises, and says,—
“And I wish to point out that this is not one of those explanations which are invented, after the fact, to meet the necessities of a doubtful case. We have absolute and overwhelming proof of it. M. de Boiscoran did not have the little match-box which he usually carries about him, at that time, because he had left it at M. de Chandore’s house, on the mantelpiece, where I have seen it, and where it still is.”
P.—That is sufficient, M. Magloire. Let the defendant go on.
A.—I wanted to smoke; and so I resorted to the usual expedient, which all sportsmen know. I tore open one of my cartridges, put, instead of the lead, a piece of paper inside, and set it on fire.
P.—And thus you get a light?
A.—Not always, but certainly in one case out of three.
P.—And the operation blackens the hands?
A.—Not the operation itself. But, when I had lit my cigar, I could not throw away the burning paper as it was: I might have kindled a regular fire.