He tried to laugh, but his merriment partook somewhat of the
nature of a sob, and big tears glistened in his eyes.
"I will not torture you any longer," continued the magistrate. "In
subtle reasoning I confess that you have conquered me. However, when
I return to the charge I shall have proofs enough in my possession to
crush you."
He reflected for a moment, then lingering over each word, he added:
"Only do not then expect from me the consideration I have shown you
to-day. Justice is human; that is, she is indulgent toward certain
crimes. She has fathomed the depth of the abyss into which blind passion
may hurl even an honest man. To-day I freely offer you any assistance
that will not conflict with my duty. Speak, shall I send this officer of
police away? Would you like me to send my clerk out of the room, on
an errand?" He said no more, but waited to see the effect of this last
effort.
The prisoner darted upon him one of those searching glances that seem
to pierce an adversary through. His lips moved; one might have supposed
that he was about to make a revelation. But no; suddenly he crossed
his arms over his chest, and murmured: "You are very frank, sir.
Unfortunately for me, I'm only a poor devil, as I've already told you.
My name is May, and I earn my living by speaking to the public and
turning a compliment."
"I am forced to yield to your decision," said the magistrate sadly. "The
clerk will now read the minutes of your examination--listen.
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