Still the captain was reluctant. To take part in such a sinister comedy; to make a poor wretch tipsy in order to deliver him to the authorities for punishment, wounded the captain's self-respect. Juve overcame his hesitations with the words:
"It is not merely a secret service matter, Monsieur: it is a question of National Defence."
"I will help you, Monsieur," was the captain's answer to this, adding:
"Let us go up! Our man's patience must be giving out."
XXV
THE ARREST
The Dover Express, the Continental Mail, was moving out of Charing Cross station.
Three travellers were seated in a first-class compartment. They were smoking big cigars: their eyes were bright, their cheeks flushed; they looked like big men who had dined well. These were Butler, Tommy and Paul, leaving for Belgium: otherwise Juve, Loreuil and Vinson bound for France! Copious libations of generous wines and strong liqueurs had reduced Butler-Vinson to the condition of a maudlin puppet: Tommy and Paul had made Butler most conveniently drunk.