Of course, even if he were not an accomplice, the injury to his wrist had made it needful for him to disappear.

Given his bleeding hand, and the previous suspicions levelled against him, he would never have convinced anybody of his innocence.

And yet, even allowing for these surmises, the affair remained wrapt in darkness: a crime on Guillaume's part seemed a possibility, and to Pierre it was all dreadful to think of.
Guillaume, by the trembling of his brother's moist, yielding hand, must in some degree have realised the prostration of his poor mind, already shattered by doubt and finished off by this calamity.

Indeed, the sepulchre was empty now, the very ashes had been swept out of it.
"My poor little Pierre," the elder brother slowly said.

"Forgive me if I do not tell you anything.