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“Excellent,” said Mansel. “Those fellows must hate his guts.”

“If they had any guts themselves, they’d put him down.”

After, perhaps, two minutes, the five reappeared.

“They are clearly out,” said the German, “but they will soon come in. Their soup is simmering, and their table is laid. So put out the lights again and close the door. Viller will go down the drive, to announce their coming by torch: Benz will watch for his signal and pass it on. March.”

On this blunt command, two of the five moved down the road of approach. “Wessel will go to the courtyard and bring back two men. Hasten, fool. Who told you that Mansel would wait for you to return?”

Wessel plodded off the way he had come.

“And what of Herr Friar?” said the policeman who had not moved.

“God in heaven,” said the Boche. “And can you not work that out? We surprised Herr Friar, my friend. And since the last thing that he wants is collision with us, Herr Friar has faded away. Be sure, he is cross – very cross. But that is the jackal’s fate, when the lion appears. He can have what is left, of course.”

There was a little silence, during which, after cocking an ear, the German took out his case and lighted a cigarette.

The other man cleared his throat.

“You will forgive me, Herr Boler, but what, when they return, are you proposing to do?”

“Arrest them, of course,” said the Boche.

“Upon what charge?”

“Of failing to register.”

“So far as we know, they have stayed at no hotel.”

The German stamped his foot.

“They are living here without the owner’s consent.”

“Perhaps,” said the other. “But that is the owner’s affair.”

“Then think of some other charge. These men must be detained.”

“It is all very well,” said the other, “but they are Englishmen.”

“That is in itself good cause for letting the swine rot in prison for twenty years.”

“I am thinking of this,” said the other, “that, if, as a result, there is trouble, the blame will fall upon me. You have no official position and cannot be touched: but I am the Chief of Police and I shall have to answer for any action we take.”

The other tapped the ground with his foot.

“You white-livered hound,” he said. “The Reich has sent me here to stiffen your rubber spine – to drain the tea from your veins and introduce blood. I have laid bare an attempt to smuggle out of your country–”

“All surmise,” said the other. “Proof, you have none.”

“I have the proof,” screamed the Boche. “My agent was in the castle and found them at work.”

“I know nothing of that. I confess their behaviour is strange. They can be asked to explain it. But we have no right to arrest them for what we cannot prove they have done.”

“They shall be detained,” said the German. “On that I insist.”

“Of what is the use? Detention will not give you the treasure you say they have seized.”

“My friend,” said the German, “you have a great deal to learn. Detain them for forty-eight hours, and I will guarantee that, ere that time has expired, the treasure will be in our hands. I know how to make people talk.”

The other stood very still.

Then—

“Herr Boler,” he said, “the line you are seeking to take is extremely grave. And
I
am responsible.”

The German leaned forward.

“Play me false,” he hissed, “and you lose your job. Within twenty-four hours of your failure, a note will leave my country, desiring the instant dismissal of the Chief of the Robin Police. Do you think that desire will be questioned?” The other drew in his breath. “Exactly. No post, no pension, no money. You and your wife and daughter, begging your bread. But render me all assistance to lay these swine by the heels, and you shall be promoted to Salzburg within the week.”

“Salzburg is not vacant.”

“If I wish it to be vacant, it will be. Depend upon that. And Robin will be vacant, if I choose to say the word.”

On a sudden he threw up his head. “Is that a car? Where the devil’s that booby, Wessel? Go and get him. I’ll call the others in.”

With that, he ran to the drive, while the other stood watching for a moment and then strode off to the left.

This shows how poor a soldier the Boche would have made. There was no car to be heard: he did not wait for the signal which Benz was to give: instead he kept flashing his torch, to call in the men he had posted, to warn him of our approach.

Until I saw Mansel behind him, I never knew he had moved.

Then he touched the German’s shoulder…

The latter let out a whoop, and started about, when Mansel hit him square on the point of the chin.

As I came to his side—

“Three’s lucky,” he said, shortly. “Into the covert with him, and let Viller and Benz go by. Then we carry him off and make for the bridge.”

And so we did.

First Benz and then Viller came by at a steady trot, but we were too far from the house to observe the return of the rest. At once we entered the meadows, bearing the German between us and making what haste we could.

There was a byre in the combe, and we carried his body in and threw it down.

“And now for the Rolls,” said Mansel. “God send they haven’t just left.”

We had to wait twenty minutes before the Rolls came by…

As Bell brought the car to rest—

“Free Orris,” said Mansel, shortly, “and turn him out.”

A moment later the fellow was down in the road.

“Listen to me, Orris. The police are up at the castle and have your car.”

“Gawd ’elp.”

“I think I’m the better bet. Walk back down this road till you come to a village called Lerai. That is the one you went through to get to the castle drive. You turn to the right at Lerai and cross the bridge. Get back to the foot of the drive and use your eyes. When the police go away, come up to the house and report. You can, of course, try to double-cross me, but, if you do, Orris, as sure as I’m standing here, I’ll blow your brains through the back of your rotten head.”

“That’s all right, sir. Punter’s tole me your shape.”

And then we were in the Rolls and were flying over the bridge.

Three minutes later, perhaps, we were back at Wagensburg.

This time we had run with lights, and, as we slid out of the covert, these revealed two figures standing against the wall.

“Hullo, who’s there?” cried Mansel, and set a foot on the brake.

There was a hurried consultation.

Then one of the two came forward and took off his hat.

“We are the police, sir,” he said. “Our chief will be here in a moment. And he will explain our presence better than I.”

“That’s all right,” said Mansel, and left his seat. “Put her away, Carson, and Bell shall give us some food. Tell your chief we’ve gone in, will you? If he’s as thirsty as I am, I’ll lay he can do with a drink.”

We had washed and were sitting at table, before the Chief of the Police made bold to enter the room.

The man looked ill at ease and worried to death.

“Sit down, pray,” said Mansel. “No, I insist. You must forgive us for dining, but three of us have eaten nothing all day. But we cannot dine, unless you will drink with us. May I pour you a brandy and soda?”

The poor man looked helplessly round, and Mansel mixed the liquor and put it into his hand.

“Monsieur is very kind.”

“Nonsense,” said Mansel, “nonsense.” and raised his glass.

The other did the same and drank long and deep.

“And now,” said Mansel, “what can we do for you?”

The man put a hand to his head.

“Forgive me,” he said, “but your movements interest us.”

“Do you find them irregular? I mean, we know Austria well and have very often made her our hunting ground. There is hardly a stream hereabouts that I have not fished. And I used to own this castle – not very long ago.”

The man was staring.

“You owned Wagensburg?”

“Yes. I spent a summer here, but I tired of the place. And then, you know, I had a whim to come back. I fear I have asked no permission, but we are doing no harm, and are using the servants’ quarters, as you can see. But we shall not be here much longer. We have to get back to England – and, to be frank, your country is not what it was.”

“Alas, that is only too true, sir. I am but one of many who are alarmed.”

“No doubt you know more than I do. But I can tell you this, that I have not visited Germany since the war. I never liked the Germans, but I can never forgive them for what they did. Austria was a cat’s paw – I bear her no such ill will. But upon this, my latest visit, a German enters my room in a private house. It was when I was staying at Hohenems, Mr Ferrers’ home. He enters my room with a warrant – a German in Austria. He vapours about some treasure which I am trying to steal… Well, I do not like such treatment. That is why I left Hohenems. That is why I sought refuge here, for I wished to avoid his attentions for the rest of my stay. You see, I dislike the German. For me, he taints the air. So when I leave Austria this time, I do not think I shall come back.”

The man had his eyes on the ground.

“I have always liked the English,” he muttered. “All that has happened has been most distasteful to me. But, believe me, sir, I cannot help myself. So long as this beast is at Robin, I have to do as he says.”

“Do you refer to that very vulgar upstart who came to Hohenems?”

“That is the German, sir, whose orders I have to obey.”

“Has he sent you here?”

“He brought us here, sir, this night. And now he has disappeared.”

“Why did he bring you here? What wrong have we done?”

“None that I know of, sir. He maintains that you have a treasure, which you are seeking to smuggle out of the country, as soon as may be.”

“But–”

“Monsieur, it is his idea. He has no evidence. Again and again I have asked him to give me something to go on – some grains of foundation for his hypothesis. But all I receive is insult… I have not, perhaps, a very outstanding brain, but I was walking my beat when he was in swaddling-clothes. And I know the law and my duty. If I had a case against you, English or no, be sure I should follow it up. But I have nothing against you – except that a gang of thieves led us here tonight.”

“A gang of thieves?” said Mansel.

The other nodded his head.

“A gang of English thieves, whose leader is one Herr Friar.”

“Friar?” said Mansel. “Friar? Is Friar a thief?”

“What do you know of him, sir?”

“I saw him in Salzburg,” said Mansel, “about a fortnight ago. He came up and claimed my acquaintance. I told him that he was mistaken and thought I had shaken him off. But that night he came to my rooms, and, to cut a long story short, I knocked him down. D’you say he’s here now? I suppose he hopes to get back.”

The other spread out his hands.

“All I know, sir, is this – that he led us here and his car is at the foot of the drive. And now tell me this, if you please. Could he have known you were going to Hohenems?”

“No,” said Mansel, “he couldn’t. I didn’t know it myself. He may have known that I was a friend of the Ferrers.”

“Had you stayed at the castle before?”

“Certainly. A year or two back.”

“Then that explains it,” said the other. “That is why he forced himself on you. He has entered Hohenems once – but not as a guest. He desires to repeat his visit, and knowing that you had the
entrée
, he sought to improve an acquaintance that did not exist.”

Here our soup was served, but though Bell brought in three plates, our friend excused himself and proposed to withdraw.

“One moment,” said Mansel. “Your fellows would like some beer?”

“Monsieur is very considerate.”

“See to that, Bell, will you?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Mansel returned to the Chief of the Robin Police.

“Before you go, Herr…”

“My name is Kerrelin, sir.”

“Before you go, Herr Kerrelin, please tell me two things. The first is, where is Friar? If he is meaning mischief, since you and your men are here…”

The man put a hand to his head.

“Sir,” he said, “I do not know where he is gone. Herr Boler – that is the German – declares that when we arrived here, he beat a retreat.”

“But his car is still there. That means he is somewhere about.”

“He must be, sir, for he would not abandon his car.”

“You know him for what he is. You say that he entered Hohenems in an irregular way. Why don’t you pull him in?”

“You may well ask, sir,” said Kerrelin, looking from side to side. “Herr Boler will not let me, because he maintains that you and Mr Chandos are bigger game. He insists that there is some treasure, of which I have very grave doubts. He insists that you are here to carry it off, which, to my mind, is absurd. He insists that is also Friar’s object, and that if we leave him alone, then Friar will embarrass you.”

Mansel expired.

“What a fool the man is,” he said. “We shall have to leave the country, if this goes on.”

“Until you do so, sir, you will know no peace. Herr Boler desires to detain you – and put great pressure upon you, to learn what he calls the truth. But when you go, you must expect to be searched. All frontier-posts are waiting. They have been warned that you will be laden with treasure, and, believe me, sir, they will take the tyres from your car.”

“Well, I hope they’ll like their contents: in any event, they can damned well put them back.”

Kerrelin spread out his hands.

“I tell you these things, sir, because it is right you should know. We do not molest the English – we never have. Mr Ferrers and Lady Olivia command my great respect. But now my hand is forced. Their guests must be insulted, and thieves that have entered their home must not be touched.”

There was a little silence.

Then—

“But where is Boler?” said Mansel. “I understood you to say that he brought you here.”

Kerrelin shrugged his shoulders.

“He was here,” he said. “He sent me off on an errand, and when I came back he was gone. That is one of his ways, sir. I have waited hours for that man. If I am leaving my post, I tell my men where I am going and when to expect me back. But Herr Boler will disappear when my back is turned – and I must wait, like some servant, until it pleases his highness to come again.”