A storm of rage was hammering in Dan's brain.
"I would advise you to tell me," he said, tensely.
"You threaten?"
"Yes," and Dan took a step toward the Admiral. "I would advise you to tell me."
Pachmann did not stir. He glanced with ironic eyes from Dan's white face to his working fingers. Then he threw back his head and laughed.
"But this is better fortune than I deserve!" he mocked. "I did not know, I did not suspect ... even when the girl told me!" Then his mood changed, his lips curled, his eyes flashed fire. "What a fool!" he sneered. "What a fool! You thrust yourself upon us—you walk into our trap—you are wholly in our power—and yet you think to frighten me with your grand air and your twitching hands! Bah! To me you are merely a speck of dust, to be blown aside—so! Now, more than ever! As an ignorant young fool, who knew no better, I might perhaps in time have let you go. But now...."
The anger had ebbed from Dan's brain, although his attitude had not relaxed. Staring into Pachmann's leering face, he realised that he must think and act quickly. The first thing was to escape; with a deep breath he braced himself and sprang for the door—to plunge straight into the outstretched arms of a man on guard there.
There was a moment's struggle; then Dan felt his feet kicked from under him, and fell with a crash that shook the house. In an instant two men were sitting on him, holding him down.
Then Pachmann came and looked down at him, his lips twitching with triumph.
"Young fool!" he sneered. "Young fool!" And then, in German, to the two men, "Take him away! In yonder!" and he pointed toward a door at the rear of the hall.