The Frenchman grew pale and something like a shiver passed over him. He saw that James Morris was in no mood for trifling.
"Who—who say zat Louis Glotte know 'bout dat?" he asked stammeringly.
"I say so. You were there, for one."
"No! no! I—I vas far away!"
"Tell me who organized the attack."
"I—I cannot!"
"You can."
"No! no! I—I—I—Stop! Do not shoot me! I vill tell! Eet vas Jean Bevoir."
"I thought as much. Was Jacques Valette with him?"
"Oui! But say not I tell you, or za vill keel me!"