When I had explained my wishes and seen him start, I went to question Drexel. He was in a condition of abject terror, and was to me such a repulsive creature that I hurried my examination of him.
“If you know how to speak the truth, I advise you to do it now. I know much about you and your doings, and if I find you lying to me I shall denounce you as a traitor to the men you were to have met here. And you know what to expect at their hands.” I gave him a second to chew this, and then asked: “Now, whose spy are you, police or these men?”
“Neither. I have not come to help in this thing; I have not on my soul: I know nothing of them.”
“I came to get the papers from Mademoiselle Helga for Prince Kalkov.”
“Oh, you are his agent, eh? How did you get in?”
“I was told to meet a woman in the square who would tell me what to do to get in.” This might be true, for I had seen the two together. “I expected to find the house deserted.”
“Who gave you your instructions?”
“Prince Kalkov himself. If I refused, he threatened me with the mines, monsieur.”
“For what?”