The colonel was evidently taken aback, though not so much as French had hoped.
“I thought I had explained that I wasn’t out on that night,” he answered, with only a very slight pause.
“To be candid,” French rejoined, “that’s why I am so anxious to have an answer to my question. If there was nothing in the trip which would interest me, why should you try to hide it?”
“How do you know I was out?”
“You may take it from me, sir, that I am sure of my ground. But if you don’t care to answer my question I shall not press it. In fact, I must warn you that any answers you give me may be used against you in evidence.”
In spite of evident efforts the colonel looked uneasy.
“What?” he exclaimed, squaring his shoulders. “Does this mean that you really suppose I am guilty of the murder of Mr. Pyke?”
“It means this, Colonel Domlio. You’ve been acting in a suspicious way and I want an explanation. I’m not making any charges, simply, I’ve got to know. Whether you tell me now or not is a matter for yourself.”
“If I don’t tell you, does it mean that you will arrest me?”
“I don’t say so, but it may come to that.”