“Then,” Bernier went on, “I thought of my sack of potatoes; my wife had gathered them up and put them back in the sack after you had emptied them out; I emptied the bag again and brought it to him. We made as little noise as possible. During this time, Madame was, I suppose, telling you the story in Old Bob’s sitting room and we heard M. Sainclair questioning my wife in the lodge. Moving very quietly, we had slipped the body, which M. Darzac had tied up, into the sack. But I said to M. Darzac: ‘Let me beg of you not to throw it into the water. It is not deep enough to hide it. There are days when the sea is so clear that one may look down to the bottom.’ ‘What shall we do, then?’ whispered M. Darzac. I answered: ‘Heaven help us, I don’t know, monsieur! All that I could do for you and for Madame and for humanity against a villain like Frederic Larsan, I have done and willingly. But don’t ask any more of me and may God protect you!’ And I went out of the room and found you in the lodge, M. Sainclair. And then you went for M. Rouletabille at the request of M. Darzac, who had come out of his own apartment. As for my wife, she was almost swooning with terror when she suddenly saw that both M. Darzac and myself were covered with blood. See, messieurs, my hands are red! Pray Heaven, it doesn’t bring us misfortune! But we have done our duty. Oh, he was a miserable wretch!--But do you want me to tell you?--well, one could never keep such a history secret--and, in my opinion, it would be better to go immediately with it to the justice. I have promised to keep silence and I did keep silence so long as I was able, but I’m glad enough to relieve myself of such a burden before you gentlemen who are the friends of Monsieur and Madame--and who may, perhaps, be able to make them listen to reason. Why should they hide the facts? Isn’t it an honor to have killed Larsan!--Pardon me for having spoken his name--I know well, it was not right--but is it not an honor to have saved the whole world from a scoundrel in saving oneself? Ah! hold! a fortune! Mme. Darzac promised me a fortune, if I would keep silence. What do I care for that? Could one have a better fortune than to be of service to the poor lady who has had so many troubles? Never in the world! But, how she looked! Why should she have feared? I asked her when we thought that you had gone to bed and that we three were all alone in the Square Tower with our corpse. I said to her, ‘Tell everyone that you have killed him! All the world will praise you!’ She answered: ‘There has been too much scandal already, Bernier: and as much as it depends on me to do, and as much as is possible, I will hide this new horror forever! It would kill my father!’ I had nothing to say to that, but I wanted to speak. It was upon the tip of my tongue to say, ‘If the business comes out later, one will believe that you did something wrong and monsieur, your father, will die just as surely.’ But it was her idea. She wished