"Nothing definite.... I may say they were very much moved at the sight of the corpse—also, that it is decomposing rapidly."
Here Fandor broke in:
"Commandant, I am extremely surprised that you thought it necessary to summon only two soldiers! It is at least strange!... I have the right to expect that in the conduct of the enquiry connected with the action you wish to bring against me you should proceed more seriously than you are doing at present.... A magistrate should be impartial!"...
The commandant had risen. He bent towards Fandor across his writing-table. Fandor also had risen—Dumoulin's air was threatening: he was furious.
"What do you mean by that?" he shouted.
"I mean to say," burst out Fandor, "that for the last forty-eight hours you have given proofs of a revolting partiality—against me!"
For a minute Dumoulin drew himself up, crimson, choking: he was an embodied protest. Suddenly he dropped the official and became the fellow-citizen. He cried:
"But I am an honest man!"
Dumoulin was a worthy official of the old school. Whatever his temperamental drawbacks, he undoubtedly aimed at a conscientious conduct of any case he had in charge. Fandor had made an exceedingly bad impression on him. He had been scandalised that a civilian, a mere journalist, had dared to treat the army with contempt, by so lightly taking the place of a real soldier. Unquestionably there were grave presumptions of Fandor's guilt: that was Dumoulin's opinion.
Considering the importance of the affair, the terrible consequences which might ensue for the accused were the case to go against him, it was imperative that the enquiry should be thorough down to the minutest detail.... The commandant well knew the weak points in his procedure. There was this confrontation, with the absurd testimonies of the two soldiers: it had proved a ridiculous fiasco. Also, he would have great difficulty in showing conclusively that Fandor had been a certain time at Châlons under Vinson's uniform.