“Naturally,” said Trent, “simple precautions of that sort would have to be taken. That’s elementary.”
“Let us get back to business,” said the other, “I want those papers. Will you get them for me? Think it over well. You may say you will not. You may say you prefer to remain here in this delightful place and catch trout. Let us suppose that you say you defy me. What happens? You lose all chance to look at trout for ten, fifteen, twenty years accordingly as the judge regards your offenses. I have mentioned only two crimes to you. Of these I have data and am certain. There are two others in which I can interest myself if necessary. I do not wish to bother myself with you after you do as I command. Get me the papers and you may remain here till you have grand-children of marriageable age. Is it worth defying me, Mr. Trent?”
The younger man groaned as he thought it over. The fabric he had made so carefully was ready to fall apart. Kaufmann went on talking.
“The man you must follow is called Commander Godfrey Heathcote, of the British Navy. On his breast he wears the ribbons of the Victoria Cross—a blue one for the Navy—and the red ribbon, edged with blue, of the Distinguished Service Order. He is a man much of your build but has straw colored hair and light blue eyes. He walks with a limp owing to a wound received at the Zeebrugge affair. He is supposed to be over here to stay with relatives who have a place on the James River. He leaves for Washington soon where his business is with the Secretary of the Navy. The papers I want are in a pigskin cigarette case, old and worn. You’d better bring the case in its entirety.”
Kaufmann rattled off his instructions in a sure and certain manner. Evidently he had no fear of being denied.
“Isn’t it unusual for an English naval commander to carry trade secrets about with him?” Trent demanded.
“Why keep up the farce?” Kaufmann exclaimed. “You, too, are a man of the world. You realize you are in my power and must do as you are bid.”
“Must I?” Trent answered with a frown. “I am asked to play the traitor to my country and you expect me to accept without hesitation.”
“Why not?” Kaufmann returned. “Would you be the first that fear of exposure has led into such ways? If I were to tell you how we—” he paused a moment and then smiled—“how we silk merchants of Switzerland have used our knowledge of the black pages of men’s lives or the indiscretions of well known women, you would understand more readily how we obtain what we want.”
“I understand,” said Anthony Trent gloomily. He was a case in point.