The tall man reached the cleared space by the speaker's table and with a quick gesture of authority motioned Hochwald to return.
Hochwald's eyes were starting from his head, and he seemed unable to move, but suddenly as though obedient to a habit he couldn't resist, he came back to the table and saluted.
"At your orders, Excellency," he stammered and stood at attention.
"I am General von Stromberg," the officer snapped in his crisp staccato as he turned to the crowd. "Let no person leave the room. The house is surrounded by my men. I am in command here."
Of all those within the rooms, only Rowland moved. Behind von Stromberg's back, he seized the black bag from the table, put it down on end upon the floor near Tanya and sat on it.
General von Stromberg folded his arms and glared along the rows of faces which seemed to bleach row by row, under his withering glance. He dominated them--completely, as Rowland hurriedly thought, the living personification of the Verboten sign.
"You were permitted to come into these rooms," the General began--"all of you. But none of you," and he gave a sardonic grin, "will be permitted--to go out."
In his long fingers, he swung a silver whistle by a silken cord. He seemed to be playing with it, amusing himself, while he watched their faces.
"I have been very much interested in listening to your speeches and your testimony," he said, his thin voice caressing his words, "it has been very interesting--ve-ry interesting. And now you shall listen to mine. Is there anyone here who denies me the right?"
Silence. Rowland struck a light for his extinguished pipe and the venerable Senf with some show of spirit spoke up.