"Yourself?" was all he said.
"Yes," the other replied. "The patrol was on the other side of the road, but I guessed what would happen, so I had brought my horse to a halt about two hundred metres higher up."
"And," Naniescu asked blandly, "you killed the chauffeur?"
"Of course," the other sneered. "I was not likely to miss him, was I?"
But Naniescu could only smile, and sigh, and murmur: "Oh, those English! Voyez-moi ça!"
"There were two men in the body of the car," Number Ten continued coolly, "they were dead drunk. Philip Imrey and the girl were on the front seats. I gave my horse in charge of the patrol and took the wheel. We were in Cluj outside the gaol soon after two o'clock. I saw the chief superintendent and gave the three men and the girl in his charge."
"Yes! Yes!" Naniescu broke in glibly, and turned to de Kervoisin, "he had all instructions. Everything was ready. I have seen them since. Philip Imrey and Anna Heves are in separate cells, and the two drunken oafs he dispatched by train to Hódmezö. They did not seem to know what had happened, and it was no use detaining them."
"None whatever," Number Ten said dryly. "They were just drunken oafs, as you say. With the miller and his two sons you will have to deal presently—that is, if your second patrol succeeded in capturing the sons. I couldn't be in two places at once, and they may have crossed the frontier. Anyway, that's your affair. Not mine."
"Of course, of course," Naniescu said airily. And de Kervoisin put in rather impatiently:
"What about the car and the dead chauffeur?"