uld not tell
exactly how or from where.

There was really a small eye-hole in the wall opposite, of the kind
called in French a "Judas," and such as is used in prisons to observe
the inmates of the cells. Through this, Hyde had been subjected to a
long and patient examination.

It was apparently satisfactory; for presently the inner door was
unlocked, and the old woman returned, followed by a man whom we have
seen before.

It was Mr. Hobson in person; Ledantec really, as Hyde immediately saw,
in spite of the smug, smooth exterior, the British-cut whiskers, and
the unmistakable British garb.

"Here is the patron," said the old woman; "tell him what you have to
say."

Hyde, addressing himself to Mr. Hobson, began his story in the most
perfect French he could command. He spoke the language well, and had
no reason to fear that his accent would betray him.

"The patron speaks no French," put in the old woman. "You ought to
know that. Tell me, and I will interpret."

Mr. Hobson played his part closely, that was clear. A Frenchman by
birth, he could hardly be ignorant of or have forgotten his own
tongue.

Hyde, following these instructions, told his story in the briefest
words. How Valetta Joe had been seized, his shop ransacked, and many
compromising papers brought to light.

"Ask him how he knows this," said Mr. Hobson quietly.

"My brother has written to me from the Crimea. He was in the camp when
the baker was seized."

"What is his brother's name?"

"Eugene Chabot, of the 39th Algerian battalion."

This was a name given in the papers seized.

"Was it he who gave this address? How did the fellow come here? Ask
him that."

"Yes," Hyde said; he had learned the patron's address from his
brother, who had urged him to come and tell what had happened without
a moment's delay.

Mr. Hobson, _alias_ Ledantec, had listened attentively to this
friendly message as it was interpreted to him bit by bit, but without
betraying the slightest concern. Suddenly he changed his demeanour.

_"Ecoutez-moi!"_ he cried in excellent French, looking up and darting
a fierce look at the man in front of him. "Listen! You have played a
bold game and lost it. You did not hold a sufficiently strong hand."

Hyde stood sullenly silent and unconcerned, but he felt he was
discovered.

"In your charming and for the most part veracious story there is only
one slight mistake, my good friend."

"I do not understand."

"I will tell y