His uneasiness showed that my old experience with him stood me in good stead now. He had a wholesome fear of my sources of information. He paused, hunched up in his chair, and asked suddenly: "Why did you mention Hugo von Felsen's name to me?"
I had an inspiration and resolved upon a shot. I took out my cigarette case, selected one with great care, and as I lit it, looked across at him. "Your daughter is a very handsome girl, Ziegler."
The shot told instantly. "You mean something. Herr Bastable," he cried, leaning forward in his eagerness. "You are my friend. You must tell me. I love my Hagar. She is the light of my life. Tell me," he repeated.
I wished with all my heart that I could; but I could only look as if my secret knowledge would fill an encyclopaedia.
This spurred his eagerness. "Ah, my friend, my dear Herr Bastable, you must tell me," he urged.
I shook my head. "You are a very clever old spider but--some one is blabbing. Look out." It was a safe general sort of shot and added to his mystification. He bit his nails and his eyes rolled from side to side rapidly. It was his way when deeply moved. "Do you mean about Hagar?" he asked at length.
I knew by this that there was something more important than Hagar behind. He would always put the less important consideration in front. "No. It's the other affair; about the----" I broke off, and his eyes fastened on mine as if to read in them the rest of the sentence. "But it's no affair of mine," I added with a shrug. "Why should I bother myself? But don't forget my warning."
"Do you mean we have been betrayed? That there is a spy among us?"
I turned grave for an instant. "I name no names, Ziegler; but some one gave you away the other day when you failed."
The effect of this second shot was startling. "God of my fathers, if I thought it was von Felsen I would----." He clenched his hands in rage.