"I am hungry," growled Simon.
"Really? Well, if you answer my questions probably you shall have food and drink. Why did you want to poison Fanfaro?"
"I do not know," stammered the steward.
"How bad your memory is. What interest did your master, the Marquis of Fougereuse, have in Fanfaro's death?"
Simon was silent. Girdel nudged him gently in the ribs with the iron bar, and turning to Irene, said:
"Would you believe, mademoiselle, that this fellow was very talkative a few days ago when he tried to bribe Fanfaro's jailer. Growl away, it is true, anyway! You promised fabulous sums to the jailer if he would mix a small white powder in Fanfaro's food. Fortunately I have eyes and ears everywhere, so I immediately took my measures. With Bobichel's assistance I captured this monster here, and then I went to the bribed jailer and gave him, in the name of his employer, the white powder. He took it without any objection. That I had changed the powder in the meantime for another he was unaware of. If I only knew," he concluded with a frown, "what object this marquis has to injure Fanfaro. This beast won't talk, and—"
"Let me speak to him," said the countess, softly. And turning to the grating, she urged Simon to confess his master's motives and thereby free himself. At first Simon looked uneasily at the young girl; he made an attempt to speak, but reconsidered it and closed his lips.
"Let us leave him alone, mademoiselle," said Girdel; "solitude will do him good."
When Simon saw that Girdel and Irene were about to depart, he groaned loudly, but the athlete ordered him to keep still if he did not wish to be gagged, and this warning had the desired effect.
When Girdel and Irene reached the room, the latter sank, sobbing, upon a chair, and "the brave athlete" tried his best to console her.