"I beg to remark, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, that you asked me
nothing when I came in, and that therefore I had nothing to say.
Besides, it never struck me that your inquiry was secret, when
everybody was admitted--including even one of the criminals!"

He spoke softly, in a tone of infinite politeness. He was quite a
young man, very tall, very slender and dressed without the least
attempt at fashion, in a jacket and trousers both too small for him.
He had a pink face like a girl's, a broad forehead topped with
close-cropped hair, and a scrubby and ill-trimmed fair beard. His
bright eyes gleamed with intelligence. He seemed not in the least
embarrassed and wore a pleasant smile, free from any shade of
banter.

M. Filleul looked at him with an aggressive air of distrust. The two
gendarmes came forward. The young man exclaimed, gaily:

"Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction, you clearly suspect me of being an
accomplice. But, if that were so, would I not have slipped away at
the right moment, following the example of my fellow-criminal?"

"You might have hoped--"

"Any hope would have been absurd. A moment's reflection, Monsieur le
Juge d'Instruction, will make you agree with me that, logically
speaking--"

M. Filleul looked him straight in the eyes and said, sharply: