The fire faded from his eye, and with a firm countenance he laid the paper upon the table.
“Your are mistaken, gentlemen! That is no document, but a check.”
“With which many documents could be purchased,” said Zetto, smiling. Placing the paper again in his pocket-book, he took out another and a larger one. It was a check for three thousand guilders.
But Weingarten had regained his composure. He knew that men acting thus must be spies or criminals; that they were testing him, or luring him on to some unworthy act. In either case, he must be on his guard.
“I beg you to confirm your charge in the usual manner,” said he, with a cold, indifferent glance at the paper. “Murder is a dreadful accusation—you cannot act too carefully. You say that an Austrian officer intends to murder the King of Prussia. How do you know this?”
“From himself,” said Baron Waltz. “He communicated his intentions to me, and confided to me his entire plan.”
“It appears,” remarked Weingarten, mockingly, “that the officer had reason to believe he might trust you with this terrible secret.”
“You see, however, that he was mistaken,” said the baron, smilingly. “I demand of you to warn the King of Prussia of the danger that threatens him.”
“I shall be compelled to make this danger clear, give all particulars, or the king will laugh at my story and consider it a fairy tale.”
“You shall give him convincing proof. Say to him that the murder is to be committed when his majesty attends the Austrian review at Konigsberg.”