“He died of suffocation,” whispered Dr Porhoët.
Arthur pointed to the neck. There could be seen on it distinctly the marks of the avenging fingers that had strangled the life out of him. It was impossible to hesitate.
“I told you that I had killed him,” said Arthur.
Then he remembered something more. He took hold of the right arm. He was convinced that it had been broken during that desperate struggle in the darkness. He felt it carefully and listened. He heard plainly the two parts of the bone rub against one another. The dead man’s arm was broken just in the place where he had broken it. Arthur stood up. He took one last look at his enemy. That vast mass of flesh lay heaped up on the floor in horrible disorder.
“Now that you have seen, will you come away?” said Susie, interrupting him.
The words seemed to bring him suddenly to himself.
“Yes, we must go quickly.”
They turned away and with hurried steps walked through those bright attics till they came to the stairs.
“Now go down and wait for me at the door,” said Arthur. “I will follow you immediately.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Susie.