So go ahead and spiel.

If you don't, I'll blow your head off." Jean sat unflinching, his lips drawn tightly, his head set square and defiant.
"You may shoot, M'seur," he said quietly.

"I have sworn on a cross of the Virgin to tell you no more than I have.

You could not torture me into revealing what you ask." Slowly Howland raised his revolver.
"Once more, Croisset--will you tell me ?" "_Non_, M'seur--" A deafening explosion filled the little cabin.

From the lobe of Jean's ear there ran a red trickle of blood.