He hesitated; then, vehemently:
"I can't," he said. "No, I can't."
"But why not?"
"I have no right to. The whole secret lies there. When I revealed the secret to Rudolf, he attached so much importance to it that he gave me a large sum of money to purchase my silence and he promised me a fortune, a real fortune, on the day when he should succeed, first, in finding Pierre Leduc and, next, in turning the secret to account." He smiled bitterly. "The large sum of money is already lost. I came to see how my fortune was getting on."
"Mr. Kesselbach is dead," said the chief detective.
Steinweg gave a bound:
"Dead! Is it possible? No, it's a trap. Mrs. Kesselbach, is it true?"
She bowed her head.
He seemed crushed by this unexpected revelation; and, at the same time, it must have been infinitely painful to him, for he began to cry:
"My poor Rudolf, I knew him when he was a little boy. . . . He used to come and play at my house at Augsburg. . . . I was very fond of him." And, calling Mrs. Kesselbach to witness, "And he of me, was he not, Mrs. Kesselbach? He must have told you. . . . His old Daddy Steinweg, he used to call me."