"What I know or what I don't know doesn't matter. I'll arrest you as soon as I can obtain a warrant. Once you are in the clutches of the English law, and you won't get out of them till you tell all you know about this case."
Octavius was simply playing a game of bluff with Judas trusting to the Frenchman's ignorance of English law to win him the game. He was right in this case, as Guinaud did not know how far the arm of Justice could stretch in England, and thought he might be arrested for the theft of the letters. If so, it would be fatal to his schemes, as he desired to avoid publicity in every way, and arrest at present meant the tumbling down of his carefully built house of cards. Having thus taken a rapid survey of the position, he made up his mind to save himself by the sacrifice of some one else, and he fixed upon Judith, who had tried to thwart him, as the victim. With this idea he politely desired Fanks to be seated again—a request which that gentleman obeyed with a feeling of great relief, as he had played his last card in a desperate game, and was grateful to find that it had turned up trumps.
The detective therefore seated himself once more, but Judas, foreseeing a fine opportunity of exercising his oratorical talents, remained standing, and waved his hand in a loftily theatrical manner.
"Monsieur," he said, with apparent grief, "you see before you a man of honour. It is all that I have, this honour of my forefathers, and I would not sell it, no! not for the wealth of the Monte Cristo of our dear Dumas. But in this case it is one of justice. If I am silent I am suspected of a terrible crime; my name is in the dust. Can I let it lie there? But no, it is impossible; so to myself I say, 'You must forget your honour for once, and speak the name of that woman.'"
"Woman!"
"Eh! monsieur, you are astonished. It is not strange! Listen to me! I will tell you what I know of my dear friend's death."
"But you're not going to tell me a woman killed him?" Guinaud placed his left hand inside his waistcoat, and waved the right, solemnly.
"Monsieur! There are terrible things in this world. The heart of man is not good, but the heart of woman—ah! who can explore its depths? Not even our Balzac, of all the most profound—"
"Hang your preaching, get on with your story."
Monsieur Judas smiled, dropped his pompous manner, and told his little tale in a highly dramatic fashion.