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Updated: June 14, 2025
She lied about this, and lied about the whole affair. So did the men at the shop. It was manufactured testimony, bought and paid for, and a manufactured picture." "Then," cried Tignol excitedly, "then Groener is not a wood carver?"
"I was too far away to see his face," replied the other, studying the wood carver closely. "Did you see his face?" "Certainly I did. He passed within ten feet of me. I saw his face distinctly." "Are you sure it was he? I don't doubt you, M. Groener, but I'm a sort of official here and this is a serious charge, so I ask if you are sure it was Father Anselm?".
"Do you mean that M. Groener does not approve of me?" pursued Kittredge. "M. Groener knows nothing about you," answered Mother Bonneton, "except that you have been hanging around this foolish girl. But he understands his responsibility as the only relation she has in the world and he knows she will respect his wishes as the one who has paid her board, more or less, for five years." "Well?"
He slipped the old talisman on his finger, and then, after a troubled pause, he said: "There is more for her to worry about than ever." "More? You mean on account of Groener?" "Yes." "But he's caught, he's in prison." The detective shook his head. "He's not in prison." "Not in prison?" "He was set at liberty about about two o'clock this morning."
He was away on a trip when I got to Brussels, away on this trip that will bring him to Paris to-morrow, so I missed him and it's just as well I did!" "You got facts about him?" "Yes, I got facts about him; not the kind of facts I expected to get, either. I saw the place where he boards, this Adolph Groener.
Then he leaned over Groener's shoulder and asked kindly: "Do you feel your heart beating fast, my friend?" "No," murmured the prisoner, "my my heart is beating as usual." "You will certainly recognize the next picture," pursued the judge. "It shows a woman and a little girl! There! Do you know these faces, Groener?"
"It's quite useless," shrugged the prisoner with careless arrogance, "I will have nothing to do with Maître Curé." "I warn you, Groener, in your own interest, to drop this offensive tone." "Ta, ta, ta! I'll take what tone I please. And I'll answer your questions as I please or or not at all."
He hadn't noticed it before, but now that everything was ready, now that he had finished his preparations yes, he was very tired. Everything was ready! It was good to know that. He had forgotten nothing. And, if all went well, he would soon be able to answer these questions that were fretting him. Who was Groener? Why had he killed Martinez?
Passing down the wide staircase, strangely silent now, they entered a long narrow passageway leading to a remote wing of the Palais de Justice. First went the guard with Groener close beside him, then twenty paces, behind came M. Paul and the magistrate and last came the weary clerk with Maître Curé.
You can't change a man's personality by making him wear another man's clothes and false hair. I tell you I'm not Groener." "Who are you then?" demanded the judge. "I'm not obliged to say who I am, and you have no business to ask unless you can show that I have committed a crime, which you haven't done yet. Ask my fat friend in the corner if that isn't the law."
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