Sagesse laughed, “Because my friend, it is not well to stir muddy water; you get before one of these infernal clerks with a pen in his hand, and he takes notes of what you say, you ask for compensation and he says, ‘Yes, yes, that is just, compensation, certainly, but first my friend, prove yourself to be whom you say you are, and give us your story in detail.’ Then with the point of his pen he turns you inside out and,” said Sagesse tapping on the table with his thumb, “it is not well to be turned inside out if one has anything to conceal.”
“To conceal?”
“For instance,” went on Sagesse, “the official of the Compagnie Transatlantique might say, ‘Who was your engineer-in-chief, who was your second engineer, had you a chum, what was his name?’”. Sagesse watching Gaspard narrowly saw the sweat start on his forehead, laughed, and finished, “and you would not say, ‘His name is Yves, he escaped with me, we landed on an island, he had a belt about his waist and a pouch containing a number of valuable gold coins which he had stolen, and I killed him and took the money.’ You would not say that, perhaps, with your tongue, but your face might give a hint, or your manner, and a hint might lead to a suspicion, and a suspicion to a search—you should have burned that body.”
Gaspard, staring at the man before him, felt as though an ice-cold blade had been driven through his heart, his flesh crawled. He had told all, then, to this man, and more than all. He felt nothing of what the criminal feels whose crime has been discovered, for he felt himself innocent of crime or criminal intent. It was the horror of the fact that he had given himself away, and under the influence of drink had described the affair in such a manner that Sagesse believed him a murderer—this it was that paralysed him for the moment.
For a moment only, then, thrusting his hands out as though he were putting something away from him, he burst out, “I did not kill him for money—it’s a lie. If I said so I lied—it was an accident. True, we quarrelled about the money, but I did not kill him for it. The knife only scratched him and he dropped. I had saved his life; does a man murder another whose life he has saved? When I spoke, I was mad with your cursed drink. If I had murdered him would I have told of it? I did not kill him for money—do you believe me?”
“My friend,” replied Sagesse quite unmoved, “I believe you. But you yourself admit the fact that you killed him.”
“Yes, by accident.”
“And took his money?”
“It did not belong to him. He had only just found it amidst the bushes, the belt and the pouch. Why do you shake your head, do you not believe me?”
“Whether I believe you or not, does it matter—? This man had found money, you killed him—by accident, with a knife, and took his money. Does your reason not tell you that such a tale is enough to hang the Archbishop of Paris—but it is all your affair, and as I said just now, my advice is to let the thing lie. Do not disturb dead bones. Let us forget it, and be practical. If I chose, I could hand you over to the authorities at Martinique to-morrow. I have marked on the chart the position where you boarded me, and the position of that island, which is the only one in that vicinity. But it would not be of the least profit to me to get you into trouble. Not in the least. I would much sooner help you. Well, to business. That money will be your worst friend, instead of your best if you try to use it ashore as it is, you must change it for good American dollars. Put it on the table and I will change it for you.”