"Possibly," said Monsieur.

This concluded the trial.

Monsieur le Ministre conducted me into room number 1 again. "Since I have
taken your cigarettes and shall keep them for you, I will give you some
tobacco. Do you prefer English or French?"

Because the French (_paquet bleu_) are stronger and because he expected
me to say English, I said "French."

With a sorrowful expression Noyon went to a sort of bookcase and took
down a blue packet. I think I asked for matches, or else he had given
back the few which he found on my person.

Noyon, t-d and the grand criminal (alias I) now descended solemnly to the
F.I.A.T. The more and more mystified _conducteur_ conveyed us a short
distance to what was obviously a prison-yard. Monsieur le Ministre
watched me descend my voluminous baggage.

This was carefully examined by Monsieur at the _bureau_, of the prison.
Monsieur made me turn everything topsy-turvy and inside out. Monsieur
expressed great surprise at a huge shell: where did I get it?--I said a
French soldier gave it to me as a souvenir.--And several _tetes
d'obus_?--also souvenirs, I assured him merrily. Did Monsieur suppose I
was caught in the act of blowing up the French Government, or what
exactly?--But here are a dozen sketch-books, what is in them?--Oh,
Monsieur, you flatter me: drawings.--Of fortifications? Hardly; of
poilus, children, and other ruins.--Ummmm. (Monsieur examined the