“What do you mean?” he cried, turning upon me quickly. “Is that a threat?”
“It is,” I answered boldly. “We have met now, and you must answer to me for several things.”
“For what?”
“For your recent actions as a spy.”
“You are extremely polite—like all the English,” he said sneeringly.
We had turned back and were walking in the direction of the hotel again.
“In this matter politeness is not necessary—only plain speaking,” I said. “First, I may tell you, for your own information, that I know well your methods and all about your assistance to your accomplice Wolf. Every action of yours during these past three months has been watched, and the truth is now known.”
His face went pale, but his nerve never deserted him. Even though I myself had once given him into the hands of the police, he was still the same scheming, desperate spy as he had ever been.
“Well,” he laughed, “if you know the truth I hope it interests you. You had best go back to Paris and not seek to interfere with me.”
“I came here for a purpose,” I told him plainly, “and that purpose was to find you and hand you over to the police as a French secret agent. In France you are secure, but here you will discover that your countrymen are not so well-disposed towards a traitor.”