“Is that all?” inquired Mornac, listlessly.
“All I have to report, sir.”
“Permit me to be the judge of how much you have to report,” said Mornac. “Continue.”
I was silent.
“Do you prefer that I draw out information by questions?” asked Mornac, looking up at me.
I was already in his net; I ought not to have placed myself in the position of concealing anything, yet I distrusted him and wished to avoid giving him a chance to misunderstand me. But now it was too late; if the error could be wiped out at all, the only way to erase it was by telling him everything and giving him his chance to misinterpret me if he desired it.
He listened very quietly while I told of my encounter with Buckhurst in Morsbronn, of our journey to Saverne, to Strasbourg, and finally my own arrival in Paris.
“Where is Buckhurst?” he asked.
“I do not know,” I replied, doggedly.
“That is to say that you had him in your power within the French lines yet did not secure him?”