"It is useless to ask me for information that I can not give."
"And why not?"
"Because I should betray a secret that is not my own. If I told you who I am, you would soon know the woman I wish to save."
"You hope to die like Campi, who was executed without any one having been able to discover his real name. Your case does not resemble his in the least, however."
"No, certainly not, and I shall die in an entirely different way, but I shall die unknown."
This was said in a tone that made M. Robergeot wonder if he were not dealing with a madman. "But your deposition must be signed," said he.
"Oh! I am quite ready to acknowledge in writing that I have told the truth, and that I have nothing to retract, but I shall sign the first name that occurs to me."
The magistrate felt that it was time to put an end to this discussion. He knew that time and solitude overcome the most stubborn resistance; besides, the presence of the two friends was a constraint upon him. "So be it," said he. "I shall question you again, however, after you have had time for reflection. In the meantime, you can write your acknowledgment, after first reading the deposition you have just made."
The stranger thereupon rose up, approached the clerk's table, took a pen, and then at the bottom of the last page of the report of his evidence he wrote these words: "I declare that I persist in my statements correctly recorded above: that I alone, and of my own free will, killed Pierre Dargental; that no one prompted me to commit the crime, and that no one knew I was the perpetrator of the murder, until I made the above confession in the presence of Monsieur Robergeot, and of two gentlemen unknown to me."
He then handed the document to the magistrate, who, after glancing at it, said quietly: "Very well. You will now be taken to the dépôt."