“Oh, never mind that now,” said Leslie angrily. “Can you help us here?”
“I don’t know, sir. I shall try; but I might mention to you that we think we have obtained a clue to the gentleman who escaped.”
“Yes, yes,” said Leslie impatiently; “but can you help us here?”
“Give me time, sir, and I’ll do my best,” said the sergeant. “Not an easy task, sir, you know. A needle is hard to find in a bundle of hay, and all the clue you give me is that a lady left your neighbourhood with a French gentleman. Fortunately I did see the lady, and should know her again. Good morning.”
“But what are we to do?” said Leslie eagerly.
“You, sir?” said the sergeant quietly, and with a suspicion of contempt in his tone. “Oh, you’d better wait.”
“Wait!” cried Leslie in a voice full of suppressed rage.
“And practise patience,” muttered the man. “One moment, sir,” he said aloud. “You saw this French gentleman?”
“I saw him, but not his face. Mr Vine here told you; the light was overturned.”
“But you saw his figure, the man’s shape?”