Thus far, M. Segmuller had been worsted in the encounter. It is true,
however, that he had not as yet ventured on any direct attack, nor had
he made use of any of the weapons which Lecoq had forged for his use.
Still he was none the less annoyed at his defeat, as it was easy to see
by the sharp manner in which he raised his head after a few moments'
silence. "I see that you speak three European languages correctly," said
he. "It is a rare talent."
The prisoner bowed, and smiled complacently. "Still that does not
establish your identity," continued the magistrate. "Have you any
acquaintances in Paris? Can you indicate any respectable person who will
vouch for the truth of this story?"
"Ah! sir, it is seventeen years since I left France."
"That is unfortunate, but the prosecution can not content itself with
such an explanation. What about your last employer, M. Simpson? Who is
he?"
"M. Simpson is a rich man," replied the prisoner, rather coldly, "worth
more than two hundred thousand francs, and honest besides. In Germany he
traveled with a show of marionettes, and in England with a collection of
phenomena to suit the tastes of that country."
"Very well! Then this millionaire could testify in your favor; it would
be easy to find him, I suppose?"
"Certainly," responded May, emphatically. "M. Simpson would willingly
do me this favor. It would not be difficult for me to find him, only it
would require considerable time."
"Why?"
"Because at the present moment he must be on his way to America.
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