"But where is this privateer?"
"I don't know, Monsieur le Maire. We were not satisfied with our treatment, so we left her at Brest."
"This is very serious," the Maire said. "You are Spaniards. You have deserted your ship at Brest. You have travelled a hundred and fifty miles through France, and now what are you doing here?"
"We are, as you say, monsieur, travelling through France. We desire to see France. We have heard that it is the greatest country in the world. Frenchmen visit Spain in large numbers. Why should not Spaniards visit France?"
The tone of sarcasm in which Terence spoke was not lost upon the Maire, who rose from his seat, purple with anger.
"You will take these men into custody," he said to his assistant. "This is a very grave business."
"Now, Dick!" Terence exclaimed and, turning to the man who stood next to him, he grasped him suddenly by the throat.
At the same moment Ryan caught up a heavy inkstand and threw it across the table at the Maire, striking that functionary in the stomach, and doubling him completely up. Then he ran round the table and bound the man--who had not yet recovered his breath--tightly in his chair, and thrust his handkerchief into his mouth.
The man whom Terence was holding had scarcely struggled. Terence, as he gripped him, had said, "Keep quiet or I will choke you!" and the prisoner felt that his assailant could do so in a moment, if he chose.
His hands were fastened tightly behind him, with his own belt, by Ryan. A short ruler was thrust between his teeth, and fastened there by a handkerchief going round the back of his head.