“What you will--a spy if you like--but a strong friend of Germany who resents an attempt by a nation jealous of her growing commercial supremacy to wipe her out of existence. I have lived in England long, and I have known many of the men who have made her what she is, but never in all those years has England ever given me one token of the high nobility she preaches. I have passed for many years as an Englishman. I am not English. I am cosmopolitan and to a cosmopolitan, residence is but an accident.” “Pray spare me the details of your treachery.” He laughed easily. “I’m afraid you’re at my mercy. I shall try to be lenient. You are an American, I am an Italian. To call me a traitor to England because I happen to have a liking for Germany would be much like my calling you a traitor to Germany because you happen to have a liking for England.” “I have never eaten the bread and salt of Germany, or wormed my way into the hearts of its people.” “I’m sure you flatter me. The people of my set in London are agreeable, but----” Doris had straightened in the act of rising. “I did not come on deck to discuss your ideals or Germany’s. I hope that you will excuse----” “You will not listen?” “No. I care nothing for your political views. I am your prisoner. I want to know without further words the worst that I am to expect from you.” “You have been upon the _Sylph_ before. What was proper for you then is proper for you now. You are quite safe in my hands. I shall try to make you comfortable. Does that answer your question?” “And after----” “You are to be delivered to the head of the Secret Service Department of the German Empire.” The girl paled and sank back into her chair. “Why?” she asked. “Because you are in possession of information that he wants.” “What information? It isn’t true. I know nothing.” “I am sorry,” he apologized again. “The cigarette papers. You read them.” “No--no.” “You forget that you have already admitted that. You have also read the second message which was to take the place of the first.” “You are dreaming. A second message? I know nothing of a second message.” “Pardon me, if I remind you of it. You would have burned it in the drawing-room at Kilmorack House if Mr. Hammersley hadn’t taken it from your hand.” She stared at him bewildered at his astounding omniscience, his devilish ingenuity. It frightened her, his cleverness and his pursuit of her. It seemed that she had never had a chance to get away from him. And yet his manner was so carefully studied, his attitude toward her so coldly impersonal that as a man once a lover she no longer feared him. If love of her had ever been in his heart, a greater passion had burned it out. She was grateful for this and prepared to measure her woman’s wit to his, thinking of Cyril. What would Cyril have her do? “You mean that you will let them--the Germans--question me?” “If they wish to do so.”