His priestly experience with desperate men was demanding of him a proper regard for that subtlety of procedure which had so often compassed most difficult ends.
He listened in silence to Farnsworth's story.

When it came to an end he began to offer some but half relevant suggestions in the form of indirect cross-questions, by means of which he gradually drew out a minute description of Alice's prison, the best way to reach it, the nature of its door-fastenings, where the key was kept, and everything, indeed, likely to be helpful to one contemplating a jail delivery.
Farnsworth was inwardly delighted.

He felt Father Beret's cunning approach to the central object and his crafty method of gathering details.
The shades of evening thickened in the stuffy cabin room while the conversation went on.

Father Beret presently lifted a puncheon in one corner of the floor and got out a large bottle, which bore a mildewed and faded French label, and with it a small iron cup.

There was just light enough left to show a brownish sparkle when, after popping out the cork, he poured a draught in the fresh cup and in his own.
"We may think more clearly, my son, if we taste this old liquor.