Prev | Current Page 55 | Next

Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Uncle Bernac A Memory of the Empire"


'Whence have you come?' he asked.
'From England.'
'But you are French?'
'Yes.'
'When did you arrive?'
'To-night.'
'How?'
'In a lugger from Dover.'
'The fellow is speaking the truth,' growled Toussac. 'Yes, I'll say
that for him, that he is speaking the truth. We saw the lugger, and
someone was landed from it just after the boat that brought me over
pushed off.'
I remembered that boat, which had been the first thing which I had seen
upon the coast of France. How little I had thought what it would mean
to me!
And now my advocate began asking questions--vague, useless questions--in
a slow, hesitating fashion which set Toussac grumbling. This
cross-examination appeared to me to be a useless farce; and yet there
was a certain eagerness and intensity in my questioner's manner which
gave me the assurance that he had some end in view. Was it merely that
he wished to gain time? Time for what? And then, suddenly, with that
quick perception which comes upon those whose nerves are strained by an
extremity of danger, I became convinced that he really was awaiting
something--that he was tense with expectation.


Pages:
43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67