“Oh, yes!” replied Cocoleu.
“But as much as you wanted?”
“Yes. Quite—enough.”
And, laughing with some difficulty, he stammered, and stuttered out,—
“I got—got into the cellar through one of the windows; and I drank—drank through—through a—a straw.”
“You must be sorry you are no longer there?”
“Oh, yes!”
“But, if you were so well off at Valpinson, why did you set it on fire?”
The witnesses of the strange scene crowded to the little window of the cell, and held their breath with eager expectation.
“I wanted to burn some fagots only, to make the count come out. It was not my fault, if the whole house got on fire.”