"And if I will not?"
"Then several courses are open to me. You have told me I have some wit. Well, I can use that wit. I can find out who the man is who comes to this room during the night, while during the day he is not to be found here."
"Who's to tell you?"
"Perhaps Father Rousseau, who hath a little church at Boulogne," I made answer.
Again the ashy pallor passed across his face, and I saw him tremble.
"He—he doth not know a word of English—that is—how do you know there is such a man?"
I know he would have given much not to have spoken these words, but they had escaped him while under the influence of the words I had spoken.
"Enough to say that I do know," I replied, "and moreover, I am not the only Englishman who can speak the French tongue."
He saw he had taken the wrong road, and he sought to retrace his steps.
"Let us understand each other," he repeated.