The priest stood up abruptly, paced around the room twice, and pressed his trembling hand against his dry throat. "And you believe he died of-"
"Starvation, sir. Pure starvation," Caderousse said firmly. "I'm as certain of it as I am that we're both believers."
The priest, with shaking hands, grabbed a half-full glass of water nearby, drained it in one gulp, and sat back down, his eyes red and his cheeks pale. "This was indeed a horrific tragedy," he said in a hoarse voice.
"Even more so, sir, because it was caused by men, not by fate."
"Tell me about these men," the priest said, and added in an almost threatening tone, "and remember, you promised to tell me everything. Tell me, then, who are these men who killed the son with despair and the father with starvation?"
"Two men who were jealous of him, sir. One jealous for love, the other for advancement. Fernand and Danglars."
"How did this jealousy show itself? Continue."
