He stopped. Chevrial and the Germans could not be in collusion—such an alliance was unthinkable. But how else to explain it....
Dan gave it up; but a good dinner at a near-by restaurant restored him something of his self-confidence. After all, this was America. Europe might be honeycombed with intrigue and over-run with spies, but they would find their occupation gone on this side of the water! And he himself would explode a bomb in the morning's Record that would shake them up a little! So it was a fairly confident and self-controlled young man who mounted the steps of the German consulate at five minutes to seven. A flunkey in livery opened the door to his ring.
"I have an appointment with Admiral Pachmann," said Dan, with a sudden cold fear at his heart that he would be laughed at; but instead he was shown at once into a little ante-chamber.
"Sit here a moment, sir," said the footman, and hastened away, closing the door behind him. But it opened almost at once, and Pachmann himself entered. Dan drew a deep breath of relief; it was all right then!
Pachmann fairly radiated good-humour. All his roughness of the morning had disappeared, and he greeted Dan beamingly.
"I am most glad to see you," he said, in such a tone that Dan almost believed him. "You are prompt—but that, I am given to understand, is an American virtue. However, I am prompt, also. The car is waiting."
"The car?" Dan echoed.
"You will understand," Pachmann explained, "that, since the Prince is incognito, it is impossible for him to remain at the consulate—that would at once betray him. I was uncertain, this morning, as to our arrangements, or I should have directed you to the proper address. However, it is but a step," and he opened the door.
Dan followed him along a handsome hall to the carriage entrance, where, at the foot of the steps, stood a limousine. As soon as they appeared, the driver, who had been standing at the hood, bent and cranked his motor and then sprang to the door and opened it.
"Enter, my dear sir," said Pachmann, and followed him into the car. The door slammed, the driver sprang to his seat, and they were off. In the semi-darkness, Dan fancied he heard a repressed chuckle, and a vague uneasiness stole upon him. But he shook it off. What had he to fear?