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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"Monsieur Lecoq"


He took the jewel in his hand, examined it attentively, held it up to
the light, admired its brilliant scintillations, and said: "It is a very
handsome stone, but I didn't notice it."
"This stone," remarked the magistrate, "is a diamond."
"Ah!"
"Yes; and worth several thousand francs."
"So much as that!"
This exclamation may have been in accordance with the spirit of the part
assumed by the prisoner; though, at the same time, its simplicity
was undoubtedly far-fetched. It was strange that a nomad, such as the
murderer pretended to have been, acquainted with most of the countries
and capitals of Europe, should have displayed this astonishment on
learning the value of a diamond. Still, M. Segmuller did not seem to
notice the discrepancy.
"Another thing," said he. "When you threw down your pistol, crying,
'Come and take me,' what did you intend to do?"
"I intended to make my escape."
"In what way?"
"Why, of course, by the door, sir--by--"
"Yes, by the back door," retorted the magistrate, with freezing irony.
"It remains for you to explain how you--you who had just entered that
hovel for the first time--could have known of this door's existence."
For once, in the course of the examination, the prisoner seemed
troubled. For an instant all his assurance forsook him. He evidently
perceived the danger of his position, and after a considerable effort he
contrived to burst out in a laugh. His laugh was a poor one, however; it
rang false, and failed to conceal a sensation of deep anxiety.


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