Why not speak out on the
point, as you glory in saying everything?"
Salvat, however, had suddenly calmed down, giving only cautious
monosyllabic replies. "Well, seek for whatever you like if you don't
believe me," he now answered. "I made my bomb by myself, and under
circumstances which I've already related a score of times. You surely
don't expect me to reveal names and compromise comrades?"
From this declaration he would not depart. It was only towards the end of
the interrogatory that irresistible emotion overcame him on the judge
again referring to the unhappy victim of his crime, the little errand
girl, so pretty and fair and gentle, whom ferocious destiny had brought
to the spot to meet such an awful death. "It was one of your own class
whom you struck," said M. de Larombiere; "your victim was a work girl, a
poor child who, with the few pence she earned, helped to support her aged
grandmother."
Salvat's voice became very husky as he answered: "That's really the only
thing I regret. . . . My bomb certainly wasn't meant for her; and may all
the workers, all the starvelings, remember that she gave her blood as I'm
going to give mine!"
In this wise the interrogatory ended amidst profound agitation. Pierre
had felt Guillaume shuddering beside him, whilst the prisoner quietly and
obstinately refused to say a word respecting the explosive that had been
employed, preferring as he did to assume full responsibility for the deed
which was about to cost him his life.
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