“It would not take long,” continued the sailor. “I would rid you in a trice of the creature. . . . But just now I have other fish to fry. . . . I am in a bad hole. I must find a pretty big sum. But, deuce take it, honour before everything.”
The Minister and the Under-Emiral looked at each other for a moment in silence. Then Barbotan said with authority:
“Under-Emiral Vulcanmould, get rid of this seditious soldier. You will render a great service to Penguinia, and the Minister of Home Affairs will see that your gambling debts are paid.”
The same evening Vulcanmould called on Chatillon and looked at him for some time with an expression of grief and mystery.
“My do you look like that?” asked the Emiral in an uneasy tone.
Vulcanmould said to him sadly:
“Old brother in arms, all is discovered. For the past half-hour the government knows everything.”
At these words Chatillon sank down overwhelmed.
Vulcanmould continued:
“You may be arrested any moment. I advise you to make off.”