"Only another exhibition of German high-handedness," replied the Sub. "We'll spring a mine on them. They'll be rather surprised when they learn that you are the son of a United States official in high quarters, and that I am a British naval officer. We'll hold our tongues till we are face to face with the commandant: then, by Jove, we'll enjoy ourselves."
"Guess I wish I had decent things on," remarked Detroit, ruefully surveying his disreputable attire. "Say what you like, Jack, gold lace does not make a man, but a fellow can't stand on his dignity like this."
"I'll have a jolly good shot at it, anyhow," retorted the Sub. "Now, stand by, there's someone coming."
Outside, along the stone corridor, came the sound of spurs jingling on the pavement. Then the door was thrown open, and the lieutenant who had effected the arrest entered, accompanied by a major of infantry.
"You are British?" began the latter in tolerably fluent English. "What is your name, your station, your address of residence?"
"Before we go into these details, Herr Major," said Hamerton, "we should like to know why we are brought here?"
"That is to be told some time after," replied the military officer. "Tell me your names."
"Not at present," said the Sub sturdily. "We'll explain everything to the commandant. We request that we be taken to him with the least possible delay."
"Gott in Himmel!" ejaculated the major. "Do you know who I am?" and twisting his heavy, upturned moustache, their captor tried to impress the two prisoners with the fear of Teutonic officialdom.
"Cannot say I've met you before, Major," replied Hamerton carelessly. "Perhaps my memory is slightly at fault?"