“Do you speak Spanish?”
“No, sir. We conversed in French.”
“Do you speak French fluently?”
“Pretty easily, sir; but I am afraid my accent is atrocious.”
“But you should hear him talk Latin, sir!” cried Punch eagerly.
“Silence, boy!” snapped out the grey-haired officer; and the chief gave him a look and a smile.
“Well, he can, sir; that’s quite true,” cried Punch angrily. “He talked to the old father, the padre, who was a regular friend to us.”
“Silence, boy!” said the aquiline-nosed officer sternly now. “Your comrade can say what he has to say modestly and well. That is a thing you cannot do, so do not interrupt again.”
“All right, sir. No, sir; beg pardon,” said Punch.
“Well,” continued the officer, looking keenly and searchingly at Pen, “you should have been able to carry in your mind a pretty good idea of the country you have passed through.”