"Come outside with me," said M. Ferraud in a tone which brooked no further argument.
The two stepped out into the hall, and when the Frenchman came back his face was animated.
"Mr. Ferraud," said the admiral icily, "my daughter has informed me what passed between you. I must say that you have taken a deal upon yourself."
"Mr. Ferraud is right," put in Fitzgerald.
"You, too?"
"Yes. I think the time has come, for Mr. Ferraud to offer full explanations."
The butterfly-hunter resumed his chair. "They will remain or carry us on to Corte. From there we can take the train back to Ajaccio, saving a day and a half. Admiral, I have a confession to make. It will surprise you, and I offer you my apologies at once." He paused. He loved moments like this, when he could resort to the dramatic in perfect security. "I was the man in the chimney."
The admiral gasped. Laura dropped her hands to the table. Cathewe sat back stiffly. Coldfield stared. Hildegarde shaded her face with the newspaper through which she had been idly glancing.
"Patience!" as the admiral made as though to press back his chair.
"Mr. Fitzgerald knew from the beginning. Is that not true?"
"It is, Mr. Ferraud. Go on."