"
"What happened next?"
"The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the charge
of stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away."
The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the same
evidence. It seemed very clear against him.
"What have you to say?" asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.
He raised his luminous gray eyes.
"Not one word," he replied, in a clear, refined voice.
"What is your name? I see you have refused to give any."
For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the count
smiled malignantly.
"My name is--John Smith," he replied, and again the count smiled.
"Your address?"
He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.
"Your occupation?" asked the magistrate again.
"I have none--that is, no settled occupation," he replied.
"Have you no lawyer to defend you?" asked Mr. Kent.
"I require none," said the prisoner; "I have no defense. All that Count
Jules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the open
casket in my hand."
"You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?"
"I have not a word to answer."
"You can surely give some account of your presence there?"
The prisoner smiled again.
"I refuse to do so," he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy of
manner.
"Then I must commit you for trial," said the magistrate. "Have you no
witnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character--no
referees?" he continued.
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