"It may be possible to destroy those plans—before they are copied," he said. "If they have already been traced, still it will be a proper step. They may even have neglected to trace them—these English. I must see Stryj at once. You will telephone him. Not now," as Von Salzinger rose with alacrity to obey. "There is another matter to be dealt with first. Hertzwohl has got away. He must be silenced. He must be punished. If he is in England—of which I have no doubt, he would be even less safe elsewhere—he is to be run to earth, and his power for further mischief must be—cut off. You understand."
Von Salzinger's eyes were full of meaning as he nodded, but there was no fraction of change in the other's. Von Berger drew a note-book from his pocket, and turned some odds and ends of papers over. Finally he selected one.
He held it out, and his level eyes forced Von Salzinger's till the latter felt that the remotest secrets could be penetrated by their cold intensity.
"You know that place?" he enquired.
Von Salzinger read—
"Redwithy Farm, Wednesford, Bucks."
He drew a deep breath. At the sound of it Von Berger's eyelids flickered.
"Yes." Von Salzinger's eyes were slowly raised to the other's.
"Quite so. You visited there the other day. For what purpose?"
"Information." There was a flush in the man's fleshy cheeks. He loathed and feared those searching eyes.