THE YELLOW DOVE
“Because it was Hammersley who told the War Office of Byfield”
“What proof have you of that?”
“No one knew of Byfield’s connection with us but Hammersley, Maxwell and myself.”
“Those were my orders. How do I know that they were obeyed?”
“One doesn’t disobey orders, Excellenz, with one’s head in a noose.”
“H—m. There are many necks in nooses at Windenberg. And one of the nooses will be tightened.”
He had stopped before Rizzio and was scowling at him with eyes that shot malevolence. Rizzio knew something of von Stromberg’s methods and was sure that he was merely trying to intimidate him, to reduce him to a consistency which would reveal hidden weaknesses in texture; yet, knowing this, Rizzio felt most uncomfortable. He twirled his mustache and looked out of the window, but his glance came back to von Stromberg’s eyes, which never wavered or changed in intensity, as though under the influence of some strange hypnotic attraction.
“You know, of course,” the old man’s harsh voice snapped at him, “what Herr Hammersley accuses you of?”
“I can imagine, Excellenz.”
“He says that you have been acting for the English Government.”
Rizzio started up in alarm.
“You do not for a moment believe”
“Don’t get excited. I believe nothing—which I do not wish to believe. But he tells a very pretty story, Herr Rizzio.”
“He would,” said Rizzio easily. “I will do him the
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