"That is not the man to whom Von Hertzwohl displayed the secrets of Borga. It is not the man I sought to have interrogated. The man who posed as Hertzwohl's nephew was a tall man of magnificent physique. Not slim like that youth. He was a man of nearly forty, with fair, curling hair and dark eyes, and the face and general figure of an--Englishman." "Englishman?" The man at the head of the table started up. The passionate hatred flung into his echo of the other's word sent a wave of rejoicing through Von Salzinger's heart. "I am morally certain, sir," he added. Quite abruptly Von Berger had become completely thrust into the background. The other had taken entire possession of the scene. He began to pace the stone-flagged hall with hasty, uneven steps. "If I thought it could be so," he cried, with a sudden wave of intemperate heat. "Oh, if I believed it were!" He raised one clenched fist above his head and shook it in dire threat. The other arm remained unmoved at his side. The passionate eyes were flashing a cruel, almost insane fire as he strode the echoing stones. The others were held in appalled silence in face of his paroxysm. In a moment he turned fiercely upon the Captain-General, standing beyond the table. There was no longer any dignity or restraint in him. The hectoring nature of the man was caught in the passion of the moment, and his innate brutality must find an object upon which to vent itself. "I tell you, if the secrets of Borga have been betrayed there shall be such a reckoning as shall stagger our country from end to end. From the highest to the lowest those responsible shall pay to the uttermost. Of all the world--an Englishman! Gott in Himmel, it is unthinkable!" He glared for a silent moment into the abashed face of Von Salzinger. Then he went on more calmly-- "I tell you you are wrong. Damnably wrong--somehow. Hertzwohl dare not betray us. No money in the world would buy him. We have proved him a hundred times. English gold to buy Hertzwohl?" He laughed derisively, but there was no conviction in his manner. "You understand, sir, you are wrong--utterly wrong. The matter shall be cleared up. You shall confront Von Hertzwohl. And if lies have been told, God help the liars." The two men stood eye to eye across the table. Von Salzinger had recovered under stress of emergency. "I could ask no better, sir--if it were in the best interests of the secrets of Borga. But is it? I could give you the names of a number of my junior officers in Borga, all of whom encountered this--nephew of Hertzwohl. And without reference to me, there is not one of them but would deny the identity of that nephew they saw in Borga with the identity of the original of that picture. If the liar is to be punished I have no fear, sir. But would it be in the best interests of Borga to deal hastily with the matter?"