Van Zwieten deftly twitched the beard off the face of his visitor and snatched the shade off the lamp. "Do you understand now?" he said, laughing. "Look in the glass, sir, and see if Augustus Dobbs is not Wilfred Burton?" Wilfred was ghastly pale, but more with rage at the failure of his scheme than with fear. With a cry of anger he sprang up and whipped a revolver out of his pocket. But Van Zwieten, on the alert for some such contingency, was quite as quick. He also snatched a revolver from the drawer, and with levelled weapons the two men faced one another. Van Zwieten was as calm as the other was excited. "You are very clever, Mr. Burton," he said mockingly; "but when you are in disguise you should not wear a signet ring. I observed your crest on the letters written to Miss Scarse by your brother. Come! how long are we to stand like this? Is it a duel? If so, I am ready." Wilfred uttered an oath and slipped his weapon into his pocket. With a laugh Van Zwieten tossed his into the drawer again, and sat down quite unruffled. "I think we understand one another now," he said genially. "What induced you to play this trick on me?" "Because you are a spy," replied Wilfred, fiercely; "and if I had my way I would put a bullet through you." "Well, and why don't you?" mocked an Zwieten. "Do you see that iron box?--it is full of papers which might be of the greatest interest to you. Shoot me and take possession of it. Your Government would reward you--or hang you!" "They'll hang _you_ if they learn the truth. We are at war with the Boers, and you are a Boer spy. A word from me and you would be arrested." "I dare say. There are enough documents in that box to hang me. I dare say you bribed Mazaroff and learned my business, also my address here as Mr. Jones. But I am not afraid--not that!" Van Zwieten snapped his fingers "You can walk out and call up the police if you like." "And what is to prevent my doing so?" "Two things. One is that I leave immediately for the Transvaal. Oh, yes, my work here is done, and well done. I have found out how unprepared you English are for this war. You talk big, but there is nothing at the back of it." "Confound you!" cried Wilfred, his white face flushing, "you'll find out what is at the back of it when we hoist the British flag at Pretoria. What is the second thing?" "Your brother. You love your brother, no doubt, Mr. Burton. He sails to-morrow with his regiment from Southampton. Quite so. Well, Mr. Burton, it is a good thing he is going. It is better he should be shot than hanged." "Hanged!" Wilfred sprang from his seat with a bound.