“If I have put anything aside, it is not worth mentioning.”

“On the contrary, let us mention it.  How much about have you saved?”

Bagnolet’s looks, and the tremor of his lips, showed the rage that was devouring him.

“I don’t know,” he said sharply.

The magistrate made a gesture of surprise which was admirable.  He added,—­

“What!  You don’t know how much you have laid up?  That is too improbable!  When people save money, one cent after another, to provide for their old age, they know pretty well”—­

“Well, then, take it for granted that I have saved nothing.”

“As you like it.  Only it is my duty to show you the effect of your declaration.  You tell me you have not laid up any money, don’t you?  Now, what would you say, if, upon search being made, the police should find a certain sum of money on your person or elsewhere?”

“They won’t find any.”

“So much the better for you; for, after what you said, it would be a terrible charge.”

“Let them search.”

“They are doing it now, and not only in your room, but also elsewhere.  They will soon know if you have invested any money, or if you have deposited it with any of your acquaintances.”

“I may have brought some money with me from home.”

“No; for you have told me that you could no longer live in Paris, finding no work.”

Crochard, surnamed Bagnolet, made such a sudden and violent start, that the surgeon thought he was going to attack the magistrate.  He felt he had been caught in a net the meshes of which were drawing tighter and tighter around him; and these apparently inoffensive questions assumed suddenly a terrible meaning.

“Just answer me in one word,” said the magistrate.  “Did you bring any money from France, or did you not?”

The man rose, and his lips opened to utter a curse; but he checked himself, sat down again, and, laughing ferociously, he said,—­

“Ah! you would like to ‘squeeze’ me, and make me cut my own throat.  But luckily, I can see through you; and I refuse to answer.”

“You mean you want to consider.  Have a care!  You need not consider in order to tell the truth.”

And, as the man remained obstinately silent, the magistrate began again after a pause, saying,—­

“You know what you are accused of?  They suspect that you fired at Lieut.  Champcey with intent to kill.”

“That is an abominable lie!”

“So you say.  How did you hear that the officers of ‘The Conquest’ had arranged a large hunting-party?”

“I had heard them speak of it at table d’hote.”

“And you left your service in order to attend this hunt, some twelve miles from Saigon?  That is certainly singular.”

“Not at all; for I am very fond of hunting.  And then I thought, if I could bring back a large quantity of game, I would probably be able to sell it very well.”