He looked a little wistfully from one to the other. Antagonism and dislike were written in their faces. Even Pamela, who was skilled in the art of subterfuge, made little effort to conceal her aversion. Nevertheless, he continued doggedly.
"What does it matter," he demanded, "who handles this formula—you or
I? Our faces are turned in the same direction. There is this difference
only with me. I want to make it the basis of a kindlier feeling in
Washington towards my father's country."
Pamela's eyebrows were raised.
"Are you sure," she asked, "that the formula itself would not find its way into your father's country?"
"As to that I pledge my word," he replied. "I am an American citizen."
"Looks like it, doesn't he!" Van Teyl jeered.
"Tell us what you have been doing in Berlin, then?" Pamela inquired.
"I had a definite mission there," Fischer assured them, "which I hope to bring to a definite conclusion. If you are an American citizen in the broadest sense of the word, England is no more to you than Germany. I want to place before some responsible person in the American Government, a proposal—an official proposal—the acceptance of which will be in years to come of immense benefit to her."
"And the quid pro quo?" Pamela asked gently.
"I am not here for the purpose of gratifying curiosity," Fischer replied, "but if you will take this matter up seriously, you shall be the person through whom this proposal shall be brought before the American Government. The whole of the negotiations shall be conducted through you. If you succeed, you will be known throughout history as the woman who saved America from her great and growing danger. If you fail, you will be no worse off than you are now."