"
"Now trace out your wanderings for me very carefully."
"Ah, sir, that is very difficult to do! I went out simply to walk about,
for the sake of exercise, to drive away the torpor which had depressed
me for three days. I don't know whether you can picture to yourself my
exact condition. I was half out of my mind. I walked about at hazard
along the quays. I wandered through the streets,--"
"All that is very improbable," interrupted the magistrate. M. Daburon,
however, knew that it was at least possible. Had not he himself, one
night, in a similar condition, traversed all Paris? What reply could he
have made, had some one asked him next morning where he had been, except
that he had not paid attention, and did not know? But he had forgotten
this; and his previous hesitations, too, had all vanished.
As the inquiry advanced, the fever of investigation took possession
of him. He enjoyed the emotions of the struggle, his passion for his
calling became stronger than ever.
He was again an investigating magistrate, like the fencing master, who,
once practising with his dearest friend, became excited by the clash of
the weapons, and, forgetting himself, killed him.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353