Without moving a muscle the Provincial turned his eyes towards the young priest. He did not look up into his face, but appeared to be watching his slim hands, which were moving nervously upon the surface of his black soutane. “My son,” he said smoothly. “As you know, I am a great advocate for frankness. Frankness in word and thought, in subordinate and superior. I have always been frank with you, and from you I expect similar treatment. It appears to me that there is still something unsatisfactory respecting your successfully executed mission. It is in connection with this Englishman. Is it not so?” René Drucquer moved a little, changing his attitude and clasping his hands one over the other. “He is not such as I expected,” he replied after a pause. “No,” said the Provincial meditatively. “They are a strange race. Some of them are strong--very strong indeed. But most of them are foolish; and singularly self-satisfied. He is intelligent, this one; is it not so?” “Yes, I think he is very intelligent.” “Was he violent or abusive?” “No; he was calm and almost indifferent.” For some moments the Provincial thought deeply. Then he waved his hand in the direction of a chair which stood with its back towards the window at the end of the table. “Take a seat, my son,” he said, “I have yet many questions to ask you. I am afraid I forgot that you might be tired.” “Now tell me,” he continued, when René had seated himself, “do you think this indifference was assumed by way of disarming suspicion and for the purpose of effecting a speedy escape?” “No!” “Did you converse together to any extent?” “We were naturally thrown together a great deal; especially after the death of the 'patron.' He was of great assistance to me and to Hoel Grall, the second in command, by reason of his knowledge of seamanship.” “Ah! He is expert in such matters?” “Yes, my father.” A further note was here added to the partially-filled page of the manuscript book. “Of what subjects did he speak? Of religion, our Order, politics, himself and his captivity?” “Of none of those.” The Provincial leant back suddenly in his chair, and for some minutes complete silence reigned in the room. He was evidently thinking deeply, and his eyes were fixed upon the open book with inscrutable immobility. Once he glanced slowly towards René Drucquer, who sat with downcast eyes and interlocked fingers. Then he pressed back his elbows and inhaled a deep breath, as if weary of sitting in one position.