"One moment!" called Pachmann, and his voice had in it a ring of command which Vard had never heard before. "Sit down. I have still something to say."
"I do not care to hear it."
"That is nothing to me. You shall hear it!"
With a glance of contempt, Vard strode to the door and turned the knob; but it did not open. He wrenched at it madly, but it held fast. In two strides he confronted Pachmann.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"The meaning," replied the Admiral sternly, "is that you are a prisoner here until I choose to release you. Now will you sit down?"
Vard stood for a moment, his face deadly white, his hands clasping and unclasping convulsively, staring down into Pachmann's leering eyes; then he went slowly back to his chair.
"That is right," said the German. "It will be best to take this calmly. In the first place, I want you to realise that you are wholly in my power. Nothing that occurs in this house will ever be known to the outside world. If you should fail to reappear, there will be no one to trace you. You will remember that we have your daughter also. And I say to you in all seriousness, and as emphatically as I can, that neither your life nor your daughter's life will cause me to turn aside or even to hesitate. I would kill you with my own hands, and then your daughter—yes, and a thousand like you, if need be—rather than that this chance should be lost to Germany. I say to you, then, that either you will consent to my proposal, or both you and your daughter will suffer the utmost consequence."
Vard's eyes had never left the speaker's face, nor had any colour come back into his own. But at the last words he laughed contemptuously.
"It is useless," he sneered. "I am not one to be frightened."