It was unconvincing.
"So," said Carl keenly, "Baron Tregar does not trust you!"
Themar's lip curled.
"The Baron knew of your ten days in my cousin's house?"
Again the marked hesitancy--the flush.
"Yes," said Themar.
"You're lying," said Carl curtly. "If you wish to go back--"
Themar moistened his dry lips and shuddered.
"No," he whispered, "he did not know."
"Why?"
Themar fell to trembling. This at least he must keep locked from the
grim, ironic man by the window.
"You're playing double with Tregar and with me," said Carl hotly. "I
thought so. Very well!" Smiling infernally, he drew from his pocket
the finger-stretchers.
"Excellency!" panted Themar.
"Why did you serve in my cousin's house without the knowledge of the
Baron?"
"If--if the secret was harmful to Houdania," blurted Themar
desperately, spurred to confession by the clank of the metal in Carl's
hand, "I--I could sell the paper to Galituria!"
The nature of the admission was totally unexpected. Carl whistled
softly.
"Ah!" said he, raising expressive eyebrows.
"My mother," said Themar sullenly, "was of Galituria. There is hatred
there for Houdania--a century's feud--"
"And you in the employ of the rival province hunting this to earth!
What a mess--what a mess!"
Followed a battery of merciless questions punctuated by the diabolic
clank of metal.
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