Rowland's eyes quickly found Tatyana's and a look passed between them, a look which no one in the room except perhaps Zoya Rochal, could have read, and she did not see it. For Georg Senf was again calling the meeting, to order and the sound of excited voices in controversy diminished to a hum, a whisper and then to silence. Herr Senf was still smiling. He was evidently very happy.
"Herr Rowland has justified our faith and our allegiance," he began, his deep bass ringing with the sounding periods he loved. "You have heard what has been said of him here tonight. If you would believe all you have heard he is both super-man and devil! Fortunately, we are not all so acrimonious as Herr Hochwald. Perhaps that is because we have less at stake. I may tell you that Herr Rowland is neither super-man nor devil but a being like you or me, a citizen of the world, thrust suddenly, in a crisis in its affairs, into the leadership of a great organization which brings our message to all peoples. That he has acquitted himself with skill, good faith and devotion, you shall now see for yourselves and decide, at least for the South German representatives, whether he is not worthy of his high prerogatives."
The citizen of the world sat upon the speaker's table swinging his legs, one arm affectionately around the black bag alongside of him, his highest prerogative at that moment being the use of a pinch of dry tobacco from the pouch of his nearest neighbor, which he was now smoking, exhaling it through his nose luxuriously. He was very contented and chuckled at the angry face of Herr Hochwald in front of him.
"I will not take your time," Herr Senf went on, "to tell you the means by which Herr Rowland discovered the whereabouts of Fräulein Korasov. I will let him inform you how he found her and how he has brought you the Treasure of Nemi. Herr Rowland."
A murmur of voices pitched in low excited tones, while the occupants of the benches leaned eagerly forward, those in the rear seats crowding and climbing up to see over the shoulders of those in front of them. Rowland stopped swinging his legs and crawled down from the table with evident regret, but he laid the pipe aside and stood up facing them with a smile. A good many things have been said about Phil Rowland's smile, and tonight it was essentially a part of him because he couldn't remember when he had ever been so happy in his life, and he didn't intend to have his evening spoiled (or theirs for that matter) by making a speech. So he began quite clearly and without the slightest hesitation an account of the events of the evening with Herr Benz, culminating in the discovery of Fräulein Korasov in the room upstairs in the villa of Count Monteori at Starnberg.
"Our friend, Herr Hochwald, had planned well," he finished. "But a vacant house which exhales the odor of a Turkish cigarette is an object of suspicion. The resistance of Herr Förster was unfortunate, but if the thought is any comfort to you, Herr Hochwald, I may tell you that Herr Förster is now in the care of a doctor and I hope for the best. I succeeded in getting what I went for. Fräulein Korasov came to you by the evening train, because her testimony was necessary to your business. I did not know if I could get through in time but thanks to Herr Benz, here I am and what is more to the point here,----" tapping the bag beside him, "here is the money."
Hochwald had risen with a swagger and a smile.
"This man is an impostor," he cried. "He is trying to deceive you. This is the bag which Fräulein Korasov filled with stones. Have you a key, Herr Rowland," he asked maliciously, "that you may open it?"
Rowland laughed.
"Oh yes," he said easily and then significantly, "I found the key, Herr Hochwald--in the chimney!"