He obeyed, and she dashed water in Fischer's face. Presently he opened his eyes, groaned and sat up. There were two livid marks upon his throat. Van Teyl watched him like a crouching animal. His eyes were still lit with sullen fire. The lust for killing was upon him. Fischer sat up and blinked. He felt the atmosphere of the room, and he knew his danger. His hand stole into his hip pocket, and a small revolver suddenly flashed upon his knees. He drew a long breath of relief. He was like a fugitive who had found sanctuary. "So that's the game, James Van Teyl, is it?" he exclaimed. "Now listen." He adjusted the revolver with a click. His cruel, long fingers were pressed around its stock. "I am not threatening you," he went on. "I am not fond of violence, and I don't believe in it. This is just in case you come a single yard nearer to me. Now, Miss Van Teyl, my business is with you. We won't fence any longer. You will hand over to me the pocketbook which you stole from Captain Graham in Henry's Restaurant. Hand it over to me intact, you understand. In return I will give you the forged transfer of stock, and leave it to your sense of honour as to whether you care to pay your brother's debt or not. If you decline to consider my proposition, I shall ring up Joseph Neville, your brother's senior partner. I shall not even wait for to-morrow, mind. I shall make an appointment, and I shall place in his hands the proof of your brother's robbery." "Perhaps," Pamela murmured, "I was wrong to stop you. Jimmy.... Anything else, Mr. Fischer?" "Just this. I would rather have carried this matter through in a friendly fashion, for reasons at which I think you can guess." She shook her head. "You flatter my intelligence!" she told him scornfully. "I will explain, then. I desire to offer myself as your suitor." She laughed at him without restraint or consideration. "I would rather marry my brother's valet!" she declared. "You are entirely wrong," he protested. "You are wrong, too, in holding up cards against me. We are on the same side. You are an American, and so am I. I swear that I desire nothing that is not for your good. You have wonderful gifts, and I have great wealth and opportunities. I have also a sincere and very heartfelt admiration for you." "I have never been more flattered!" Pamela scoffed. He looked a little wistfully from one to the other. Antagonism and dislike were written in their faces. Even Pamela, who was skilled in the art of subterfuge, made little effort to conceal her aversion. Nevertheless, he continued doggedly. "What does it matter," he demanded, "who handles this formula--you or I? Our faces are turned in the same direction. There is this difference only with me. I want to make it the basis of a kindlier feeling in Washington towards my father's country." Pamela's eyebrows were raised. "Are you sure," she asked, "that the formula itself would not find its way into your father's country?"