"Well, I scarcely know how to finish," she confessed, "only sometimes when I am talking to him I feel that he can scarcely be as big a fool as he seems, and then I wonder. Jimmy," she went on, shaking her head at him, "you're not looking well. You've been sitting up too late and getting into bad habits during my absence. Open confession, now, if you please. If it's a girl, I shall give you my blessing." Van Teyl groaned and said nothing. A foreboding of impending trouble depressed Pamela. She turned towards Fischer and found in his grim face confirmation of her fears. "What does this mean?" she demanded. "Your brother will explain," Fischer replied. "It is better that he should tell you everything." "Everything?" she repeated. "What is there to tell. What have you to do with my brother, anyway?" she added fiercely. "You must not look at me as though I were in any way to blame for what has happened," was the insistent reply. "On the contrary, I have been very lenient with your brother. I am still prepared to be lenient--upon certain conditions." The light of battle was in Pamela's eyes. She fought against the significance of the man's ominous words. This was his first blow, then, and directed against her. "I begin to understand," she said. "Please go on. Let me hear everything." Van Teyl had turned to the sideboard. He mixed and drank off a whisky and soda. Then he swung around. "I'll make a clean breast of it in a few words, Pamela," he promised. "I've gambled with Fischer's money, lost it, forged a transfer of his certificates to meet my liabilities, and I am in his power. He could have me hammered and chucked into Sing Sing, if he wanted to. That's all there is about it." Pamela stood the shock well. She turned to Fischer. "How much of this are you responsible for?" she asked. "That," he objected, "is an impotent question. It is not I who had the moulding of your brother's character. It is not I who made him a forger and a weakling." Van Teyl's arm was upraised. An oath broke from his lips. Pamela seized him firmly and drew him away. "Be quiet, James," she begged. "Let us hear what Mr. Fischer is going to do about it." "That depends upon you," was the cold reply. Pamela stood at the head of the table, between the two men, and laughed. Her brother had sunk into a chair, and his head had dropped moodily upon his folded arms. She looked from one to the other and a new sense of strength inspired her. She felt that if she were not indeed entirely mistress of the situation, yet the elements of triumph were there to her hand. "This is living, at any rate," she declared. "First of all I discover that your Japanese servant is a spy--" "Nikasti!" Van Teyl interrupted furiously. "Blast him! I knew that there was something wrong about that fellow, Fischer." Fischer frowned. "What's he been up to?" he inquired.