“Why so? You heard him answer that the young man who was found there was not murdered.”
“But since he was the one who killed him, could you expect him to admit it?”
“That man an assassin! Nonsense! it’s impossible. Do you believe it, my dear love?”
“I believe—Mon Dieu! I don’t know what to believe; but this much is certain, that I will not walk in that direction again. Let’s go to bed; what with the fright, excitement, fatigue and the storm, I am completely exhausted; and you?”
“I? Oh! I regret that we didn’t go as far as the cross in the ravine. I would have liked to pray for him who lies there!”
VI
CALUMNY
Several days had passed since the memorable evening of the storm. Honorine and Agathe had promised each other never to breathe a word of what they had seen and heard that evening by the cross in the ravine. There are some subjects with respect to which the slightest indiscretion is a crime, in that it may have the most serious consequences; and the words which the owner of the Tower had uttered when he was on his knees beside the cross, were of those which one regrets having heard, and which one tries to forget.
However, there was no reason why the two friends should not discuss the subject between themselves, and in fact they often did.
Agathe, who always defended Paul, would exclaim:
“No, that man is not an assassin! I am absolutely convinced of it. Indeed, the very emotion that he showed when I said that a stranger had been murdered in the ravine, and the warmth with which he repelled that suggestion prove that it is false.”