“Why, surely, monsieur le secrétaire;-général, you know as well as I do!”
“How do you mean?”
“Why, weren’t you at the execution?”
“I was.”
“In that case, you saw both Vaucheray and the executioner hit, one mortally, the other with a slight wound. And you can’t fail to see....”
“Oh,” exclaimed Prasville, dumbfounded, “you confess it? It was you who fired the shots, this morning?”
“Come, monsieur le secrétaire;-général, think! What choice had I? The list of the Twenty-seven which you examined was a forgery. Daubrecq, who possessed the genuine one, would not arrive until a few hours after the execution. There was therefore but one way for me to save Gilbert and obtain his pardon; and that was to delay the execution by a few hours.”
“Obviously.”
“Well, of course. By killing that infamous brute, that hardened criminal, Vaucheray, and wounding the executioner, I spread disorder and panic; I made Gilbert’s execution physically and morally impossible; and I thus gained the few hours which were indispensable for my purpose.”
“Obviously,” repeated Prasville.