"Those who gave me my instructions. If you don't know who they are without my telling you, you're the wrong man and I'll not waste time with you."
"Let us suppose that I know then. Proceed."
"Your name was given to me as that of a man who can be trusted to take necessary action in the interests of … er … you understand?"
"Uh-huh!"
"The plot for Feisul to be kidnapped by some Syrian members of his staff has been discovered at the last minute," I said, looking hard at him; and he winced palpably.
"Mon Dieu! You mean—"
"That it is not too late to save the situation. You have not been accused of connection with it. I came here in pursuance of a different plan to kidnap him—a sort of reserve plan, to be employed in case other means should fail. All arrangements are in working order except the one item of communicating with the French General Staff. I require you to accompany me for that purpose, and to send off to them immediately a message at my dictation."
"Tschaa! Suppose you show me your authority?"
"Certainly!" I answered.
Realizing that he wasn't in immediate danger of life he had returned his own pistol to his pocket. So I showed him the muzzle of mine, and he divined without a sermon on the subject that it would go off and shoot accurately unless he showed discretion. He didn't offer to move when Jeremy's agile fingers found his pocket and flicked out the mother-of- pearl-handled, rim-fire thing with which he had previously kept his courage warm.