"I have. To feed my household and the starving peasants."
"I hear you have enough to gorge them till the end of the war. Is that so?"
"I don't know how long the war will last."
The Prussian, angry before, became infuriated at this. He stamped his foot and bellowed as if he were drilling recruits.
"You're bandying words, Herr Graf," he shouted. "I know you're concealing supplies. I'll have them of you, mein Gott, I will!"
"Your authority?"
Ian's eyes were ablaze with suppressed passion; but he controlled himself. His outward calm maddened the subaltern, who danced in his rage. Indeed, if not for the circumstances behind his visit, he would have been quite funny.
"Authority!" he bawled. "I am Authority. I am the representative of victorious Prussia! My word is law in this house! Surrender your supplies or I'll burn it down!"
Ian went over to the safe, unlocked it with the key which hung by a leather strap he kept in his pocket, and swung back the heavy door.
The subaltern whipped out his revolver, strode after him and peered in. The safe was almost empty except for keys.