"What are they worth?" repeated the Prussian.
"I don't know. They have not been valued for fifty years."
"But those emeralds ... you must know what they are worth."
"They are priceless," said Father Constantine.
The man turned to him.
"Hold your tongue," he said rudely. "You weren't so ready to talk outside." Then to Ian:
"Give me the banker's receipt for the jewels and plate."
"My lawyers have them."
"Who are they? But no matter..." He laughed roughly. "Next week we shall be in Warsaw, and if I find you've been lying, you'll be shot." He withdrew his revolver. Ian gave a slight breath of relief. "Now for the food," said the Teuton.
Ian took a bunch of keys from the safe, locked it and rang the bell. Martin appeared, white as a sheet. He had heard what was going on.