The interrogation came sharply from the man at the head of the table, who was almost lost to Von Salzinger's view behind the bulk of the oil-lamp which lit the scene.
"It was his right, just as it would have been your right, sir," Von Salzinger replied daringly, "to submit to the discipline of the place, a discipline which has been ordered by those who have a right to order such things. The complaint must come after obedience, not after open defiance of Berlin's most imperative orders. That is the case of Prince von Hertzwohl. I could not have acted otherwise than I did in the interests of our greatest of all State secrets."
The man at the head of the table nodded in seeming approval at the robust vindication. Von Berger gave no sign. His eyes never left the angular figure of the Captain-General.
"But you threatened his life—by your action in the matter." Von Berger's words came without emotion. The hard eyes were unchanging.
"I submit that it had been better for the State had I more than threatened it."
"How do you mean, sir?"
The man at the head of the table was sitting up. His eyes were angrily alight.
For a second Von Salzinger flinched before this display. He recovered himself swiftly, however. He knew he dared not lose a second in such a crisis.
"Your pardon, sir, if my manner should seem rough. I feel strongly. If a man in Von Hertzwohl's position refuses to obey the laws he is fully cognizant of, then, I say, he has reason—grave reason for so doing."
"You imply?"