The man at the head of the table nodded in seeming approval at the robust vindication. Von Berger gave no sign. His eyes never left the angular figure of the Captain-General. "But you threatened his life--by your action in the matter." Von Berger's words came without emotion. The hard eyes were unchanging. "I submit that it had been better for the State had I more than threatened it." "How do you mean, sir?" The man at the head of the table was sitting up. His eyes were angrily alight. For a second Von Salzinger flinched before this display. He recovered himself swiftly, however. He knew he dared not lose a second in such a crisis. "Your pardon, sir, if my manner should seem rough. I feel strongly. If a man in Von Hertzwohl's position refuses to obey the laws he is fully cognizant of, then, I say, he has reason--grave reason for so doing." "You imply?" Again it was the question of the man at the head of the table. "He dared not have his--nephew interrogated, sir." "And if he dared not?" It was still the same speaker. Von Salzinger shrugged. "There can only be one interpretation, sir." "You mean--betrayal of Borga's secrets." "Yes, sir." The man at the head of the table turned to Von Berger with a smile that never reached his eyes. "Tell him," he said imperiously. "Your contention loses all its apparent force in the light of--facts," said Von Berger coldly. "Agents have been set to work upon the matter. From the moment of Von Hertzwohl's complaint, in justice to you as Borga's commandant, the closest secret enquiries have been made. On the occasion of Hertzwohl's visit to your command his nephew did accompany him. This nephew is certainly his most trusted engineer, and is the actual inventor of the U-light. There is no shadow of doubt about these matters. Your suspicions are groundless and cannot be accepted in your defence." Von Salzinger was taken aback at the concise refutation of his carefully elaborated suspicions. He began to see the fabric he had constructed tumbling about his ears. He had been the victim of his own spleen, he knew, and his suspicions had had no sound foundation. He stood flushed and silent. Then the man at the head of the table unconsciously came to his rescue. "Show him," he briefly ordered Von Berger. The latter picked up a photograph--a mere rough print--and handed it to the troubled Von Salzinger. "That is Herr von Bersac, the Prince's nephew. It was taken three days ago, without the man being aware of it. That is the man who visited Borga with his uncle." Von Salzinger had taken the picture in his hands, and his eager eyes scrutinized it carefully. A moment later he handed it back, and an intense look of triumph had replaced the embarrassment of a moment before.