—I just heard you. I heard everything. The ring, the payment, the forged order. Do you want me to remind you of your words? You said, “I’m not going to lose my position because of a servant with a reputation for holiness.”
Gaston paled.
The warden gripped the edge of the table tightly.

—Where did you come from?
Bruno raised a bloody hand and pointed towards the corridor.
—From where your rotten stones and a rat had more mercy than men.
Gaston tried to escape.
He didn’t get far.
The warden, perhaps driven by the instinct to save himself, grabbed him by the collar of his cloak and threw him against the desk. The bag of coins fell to the floor, scattering gold. The rat, as if from a vivid nightmare, darted through the coins and disappeared through another crack.
Footsteps were heard in the hallway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two guards came running in.
“Stop him!” Gaston shouted, pointing at Bruno.
But the warden thundered:
—On the contrary! Arrest this man!
The guards hesitated.
“Now!” roared the warden.
They obeyed. They restrained Gastón, who began to insult, to struggle, to swear that it was all a conspiracy by the prisoner. The warden was breathing heavily. He looked at Bruno, then at the door, as if he understood that this could no longer be hidden without dragging him down as well.
“Bring the scribe,” he ordered. “And wake the captain of the watch. This will be settled before dawn.”
Bruno felt his strength suddenly leave his body. He leaned against the wall to keep from falling.
Everything moved very quickly afterwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They sat him down in a chair.
They gave him water.
They reluctantly bandaged his hands.
They brought in the scribe, half asleep, his quill still stained with ink.
The warden, now sweaty and pale, began to dictate a statement in which he tried to portray himself as a man shocked by the corruption of others. Bruno wasn’t so naive as to not notice the attempt to save his own skin, but at that moment only one thing mattered to him: that the truth come to light before the gallows bore his name.
Gastón denied everything at first.
Then, when the warden displayed the bag of coins and threatened to bring up past payments, he began to break down. He swore. He spat. He accused others. Finally, he shouted that yes, he had put the ring under the mattress, that Bruno was in his way, that the governor was a foolish old man who trusted clean faces too much.
“He was going to find out sooner or later!” he shouted. “All for a miserable ring! I was taking crumbs compared to what powerful men steal!”
The scribe continued writing with a distraught expression.