"He will know better, because he crossed with us."
Pachmann stared at her, his brows contracted; then a slow smile broke across his lips.
"I remember now," he said. "I did, on one occasion, observe you talking to a young man. No doubt it is to him you refer."
"Yes—and he has a power at his disposal which even you may fear."
Pachmann chuckled.
"The power of the press, is it not?" he asked. "Be at rest, Miss Vard. He will not use it against us. He will walk into our net at seven o'clock this evening! You may be sure that now he will not be permitted to escape!"
In spite of herself, Kasia turned pale. Herself and her father she was prepared to sacrifice—they had played for a great stake and had been outwitted. But Dan! That he, too, should be drawn into the whirlpool and sucked down and destroyed! She turned faint at the thought. Then she pulled herself up sharply, for Pachmann's gimlet eyes were upon her, glittering with comprehension, reading her face, while on his own there was an expression of infernal triumph. She shivered as she looked at him.
"Have you anything else to say, Miss Vard?" he asked, with a leer.
"No," said Kasia, and turned to the door, anxious to hide her face, to escape from him, to be alone with her thoughts.
"Then please come with me."