I replied that it was.
I was then ordered to give all the information I possessed with regard to the fleet; its strength; number and calibre of guns; and so on.
To this I replied that having been confined during the whole of my captivity between two guns, on the lower-deck, I had had no means of gaining any information whatever, either upon the points mentioned, or indeed any others.
My statement was received with a look of incredulity and a dissatisfied grunt.
“What think you, gentlemen,” exclaimed the old martinet, “does this young man’s story strike you as being truthful?”
“It sounds plausible enough,” replied the officer called Montrouge. “I see no reason to doubt it.”
“What is your opinion, Saint Croix?”
“I believe it to be the truth,” replied the individual addressed.
“Good! We differ slightly in opinion, that is all, gentlemen,” remarked the general. “For my own part, I am convinced that this story,”—striking disdainfully the written statement, which he held in his hand—“is a simple tissue of falsehood. Luckily, we possess the means of putting the matter to the test. Send for Guiseppe the Corsican.”
Guiseppe the Corsican! the man who had sold me into the hands of the enemy once already, and who, I had every reason to believe, had betrayed Count Lorenzo di Paoli also. If this man and I were brought face to face, I was hopelessly lost.