“At once he replies, ’As I told you before, I have not laid up a cent.  But if anything should happen to a certain person whom I think of, I should be rich; and you—­why, you might be rich too, if you were willing to give him a little push with the elbow, so that the thing might happen to him a little sooner.’”

Earnestly bent upon the part which he had to play for the sake of carrying out his system of defence, the prisoner assumed more and more hypocritical repentance, an effort which gave to his wicked face a peculiarly repulsive expression.

The magistrate, however, though no doubt thoroughly disgusted with this absurd comedy, did not move a muscle of his face, nor make a gesture, anxious, as he was, not to break the thread of this important deposition.

“Ah, sir!” exclaimed Crochard, his hand upon his heart, “when I heard Chevassat talk that way, my heart turned within me, and I said, ’Unfortunate man, what do you mean?  I should commit a murder?  Never!  I’d rather die first!’ He laughed, and replied, ’Don’t be a fool; who talks to you of murder?  I spoke of an accident.  Besides, you would not risk anything.  The thing would happen to him abroad.’  I continued, however, to refuse, and I spoke even of going away; when Chevassat seized a big knife, and said, now that I had his secret, I was bound to go on.  If not!—­he looked at me with such a terrible air, that, upon my word, I was frightened, and sat down again.

“Then, all at once, he became as jolly again as before; and, whilst he kept pouring the brandy into my glass, he explained to me that I would be a fool to hesitate; that I could never in all my life find such a chance again of making a fortune; that I would most certainly succeed; and that then I would have an income, keep a carriage as he did, wear fine clothes, and have every day a dinner like the one we had just been enjoying together.

“I became more and more excited.  This lot of gold which he held up before my mind’s eyes dazzled me; and the strong drink I had been taking incessantly got into my head.  Then he flourished again the big knife before my face; and finally I did not know what I was saying or doing.  I got up; and, striking the table with my fist, I cried out, ’I am your man!’”

Although, probably, the whole scene never took place, except in the prisoner’s imagination, Daniel could not help trembling under his cover, at the thought of these two wretches arranging for his death, while they were there, half drunk, glass in hand, and their elbows resting on a table covered with wine-stains.  Lefloch, on his part, stood grasping the bedstead so hard with his hand, that the wood cracked.  Perhaps he dreamed he held in his grasp the neck of the man who was talking so coolly of murdering his lieutenant.  The lawyer and the doctor thought of nothing but of watching the contortions of the accused.  He had drawn a handkerchief from his pocket, and rubbed his eyes hard, as if he hoped thus to bring forth a few tears.