But how?  Evidence I had none that could satisfy any one else, however convincing it might be to my own mind.  Nor did there seem any evidence forthcoming from Grosshesslohe.  Sophie’s body had been found in the afternoon lying as if asleep in one of the by-paths of the wood.  No marks of a struggle; no traces of the murderer.  Her affianced lover, who was at Augsburg, on hearing of her fate, hurried to Grosshesslohe, but could throw no light on the murder, could give no hint as to a possible motive for the deed.  But this entire absence of evidence, or even ground of suspicion, only made my case the stronger.  It was the motiveless malignity of the deed which fastened it on Bourgonef; or rather, it was the absence of any known motive elsewhere which assured me that I had detected the motive in him.

Should I communicate my conviction to the police?  It was possible that I might impress them with at least sufficient suspicion to warrant his examination—­and in that case the truth might be elicited; for among the many barbarities and iniquities of the criminal procedure in Continental States which often press heavily on the innocent, there is this compensating advantage, that the pressure on the guilty is tenfold heavier.  If the innocent are often unjustly punished—­imprisoned and maltreated before their innocence can be established—­the guilty seldom escape.  In England we give the criminal not only every chance of escape, but many advantages.  The love of fair-play is carried to excess.  It seems at times as if the whole arrangements of our procedure were established with a view to giving a criminal not only the benefit of every doubt, but of every loophole through which he can slip.  Instead of this, the Continental procedure goes on the principle of closing up every loophole, and of inventing endless traps into which the accused may fall.  We warn the accused not to say anything that may be prejudicial to him.  They entangle him in contradictions and confessions which disclose his guilt.

Knowing this, I thought it very likely that, however artful Bourgonef might be, a severe examination might extort from him sufficient confirmation of my suspicion to warrant further procedure.  But knowing also that this resort was open to me when all others had failed, I resolved to wait and watch.

IX

FINALE

Two days passed, and nothing occurred.  My watching seemed hopeless, and I resolved to try the effect of a disguised interrogatory.  It might help to confirm my already settled conviction, if it did not elicit any new evidence.

Seated in Bourgonef’s room, in the old place, each with a cigar, and chatting as of old on public affairs, I gradually approached the subject of the recent murder.

“Is it not strange,” I said, “that both these crimes should have happened while we were casually staying in both places?”