.

"Groener," demanded the magistrate impressively, "do you still deny any
connection with this crime or any knowledge concerning it?"

"I do," answered the accused.

"As I said before, I think you are lying, I believe you killed Martinez,
but it's possible I am mistaken. I was mistaken in my first impression
about Kittredge--the evidence seemed strong against him, and I should
certainly have committed him for trial had it not been for the remarkable
work on the case done by M. Coquenil."

"I realize that," replied Groener with a swift and evil glance at the
detective, "but even M. Coquenil might make a mistake."

Back of the quiet-spoken words M. Paul felt a controlled rage and a
violence of hatred that made him mutter to himself: "It's just as well this
fellow is where he can't do any more harm!"

"I warned you," pursued the judge, "that we are coming to an unpleasant
part of this examination. It is unpleasant because it forces a guilty
person to betray himself and reveal more or less of the truth that he tries
to hide."

The prisoner looked up incredulously. "You say it _forces_ him to betray
himself?"

"That's practically what it does. There may be men strong enough and
self-controlled enough to resist but we haven't found such a person yet.
It's true the system is quite recently devised, it hasn't been thoroughly
tested, but so far we have had wonderful results and--it's just the thing
for your case."

Groener was listening carefully. "Why?"

"Because, if you are guilty, we shall know it, and can go on confidently
looking for certain links now missing in the chain of evidence against you.
On the other hand, if you are innocent, we shall know that, too, and--if
you _are_ innocent, Groener, here is your chance to prove it."

If the prisoner's fear was stirred he did not show it, for he answered
mockingly: "How convenient! I suppose you have a scales that registers
innocent or guilty when the accused stands on it?"

Hauteville shook his head. "It's simpler than that. We make the accused
register his own guilt or his own innocence _with his own words_."

"Whether he wishes to or not?"

The other nodded grimly. "Within certain limits--yes."

"How?"

The judge opened a leather portfolio and selected several sheets of paper
ruled in squares. Then he took out his watch.

"On these sheets," he explained, "M. Coquenil and I have written down about
a hundred words, simple, everyday words, most of them, su