CHAPTER VII — ON THE SCENT
Dormer Colville attached so much importance to the Captain’s grave jest that he interpreted it at once to Monsieur de Gemosac.
“Captain Clubbe,” he said, “tells us that he does not need to be informed that this Loo Barebone is the man we seek. He has long known it.”
Which was a near enough rendering, perhaps, to pass muster in the hearing of two persons imperfectly acquainted with the languages so translated. Then, turning again to the sailor, he continued:
“Monsieur de Gemosac would naturally wish to know whether there were papers or any other means of identification found on the woman or the child?”
“There were a few papers. The woman had a Roman Catholic Missal in her pocket, and the child a small locket with a miniature portrait in it.”
“Of the Queen Marie Antoinette?” suggested Colville, quickly.
“It may well have been. It is many years since I saw it. It was faded enough. I remember that it had a fall, and would not open afterward. No one has seen it for twenty-five years or so.”
“The locket or the portrait?” inquired Colville, with a light laugh, with which to disclaim any suggestion of a cross-examination.
“The portrait.”