He took his stand opposite Vorski:
"You lucky dog, you! You're in the front seats and you won't lose a word. I expect you're glad, eh, to have a little light thrown upon your darkness? We've been floundering about so long that it's time we had a definite lead. I assure you I'm beginning not to know where I am. Just think, a riddle which has lasted for centuries and centuries and which you've merely muddled still further."
"Thief! Robber!" snarled Vorski.
"Insults? Why? If you're not comfortable, let's talk about François."
"Never! He shall die."
"Not at all, you'll talk. I give you leave to interrupt me. When you want me to stop, all you've got to do is to whistle a tune: 'En r'venant de la r'vue,' or Tipperary. I'll at once send to see; and, if you've told the truth, we'll leave you here quietly, Otto will untie you and you can be off in François' boat. Is it agreed?"
He turned to Stéphane and Patrice Belval:
"Sit down, my friends," he said, "for it will take rather long. But, if I am to be eloquent, I need an audience . . . and an audience who will also act as judges."
"We're only two," said Patrice.
"You're three."