"Yes," Hyde said; he had learned the patron's address from his brother, who had urged him to come and tell what had happened without a moment's delay.
Mr. Hobson, alias Ledantec, had listened attentively to this friendly message as it was interpreted to him bit by bit, but without betraying the slightest concern. Suddenly he changed his demeanour.
"Ecoutez-moi!" he cried in excellent French, looking up and darting a fierce look at the man in front of him. "Listen! You have played a bold game and lost it. You did not hold a sufficiently strong hand."
Hyde stood sullenly silent and unconcerned, but he felt he was discovered.
"In your charming and for the most part veracious story there is only one slight mistake, my good friend."
"I do not understand."
"I will tell you. Eugène Chabot, your brother?—yes; your brother. Well, he could not have written to you as you tell me—"
"But I assure you—"
"For the simple reason, that, just one week before the seizure of Valetta Joe, Chabot was killed—in a sortie from the enemy's lines."
"Impossible! I—"