"By means of the hundred-franc note with which you paid your reckoning at Toulon. That was careless, Admiral; it was not like you. You should have carried gold, not paper—that would have told no secrets. But bank notes are numbered. And then, when you gave our friend here a packet of similar notes—I do not see how you could expect to escape, after that!"
Pachmann struck his forehead heavily with his open hand.
"So it was that!" he groaned. "So it was that! Yes, I was a fool!"
There was pity in the gaze which Crochard bent upon him. He could guess what this good German suffered at that moment.
"That was not your fault," he said, "so much as that of the person who supplied you with those notes, after getting them directly from the Bank of France. But, at this end of the journey, how clumsy you were! All that haste, all that circling—and for nothing!"
"You followed us, then?"
"Why no!" laughed Crochard. "I had no need to follow you. I had only to be at your consulate at seven o'clock."
Pachmann could only stare.
"The appointment was made on the open deck," said Crochard; "I was expecting it, and my ears are sharp! Well I was there at that hour, as well as M. Webster—and you led me straight here! That was careless! That was clumsy! After that, you deserved to fail!"
"How did you enter here?" asked Pachmann, hoarsely. "My men—are they—"