Chapter 22

Two minutes later Monsieur Vernisson was ushered in. He was forlorn and crushed looking, his melancholy aspect intensified by the depressed droop of his moustache. His escort, Baron de Gravières, was a well set-up specimen of the gentleman-farmer class, and carried a revolver. The prisoner, who looked dazed began moaning: “I don’t understand ... a broken lock ... what does it all mean?” “You’d better confess,” advised Béchoux, “instead of whining like that.” “I’ll confess anything you like, if only you’ll promise n…