“On what charge?”
“Don’t question me. Your name?”
I looked at him steadily and kept silent. The frown deepened and he repeated “Your name; do you hear?”
“Of course I hear you; but if I am a prisoner I decline to answer any questions until I know the charge against me.”
“Don’t trifle with me. Refuse to answer and you go to the cells.”
“That as you please. Your agent there knows my name perfectly well and that I am a British subject. I claim my rights as one.”
The reply only served to increase his anger. The flesh about his nose and mouth began to grow white as it will with some men in passion. He was a bully, and probably hated the English like so many of his countrymen.
“Answer me, you——” The epithet was lost in the loud cough of a man near him.
“You have the only answer I shall give until I know the charge.”
“Take him away,” he ordered, with a wave of the hand.