THE YELLOW DOVE
“Byfield!” Rizzio started forward quickly. “Hammersley is a fool. Have I not told Excellenz that Byfield knew nothing whatever of my connection with the affair?”
Von Stromberg stretched his long arms impatiently.
“Herr Maxwell, unfortunately, is silent. Captain Byfield is in a position where the only questions that can be put to him will be those at the Gates of Heaven by his Maker.”
He gave the bell on the table a resounding blow and grinned mischievously at Rizzio.
“You say that Herr Hammersley is a fool. He asserts that you are one. I shall now smoke a cigar and decide for myself which of you is correct.”
And, as the soldier entered, “Tell Herr Hammersley that I wish to see him here at once.”
“I can only say, Excellenz,” said Rizzio, when the man went out, “that I am willing to abide by your verdict.”
“Even though it should be unfavorable to yourself?” growled von Stromberg.
“That, Excellenz, is quite impossible.”
“I have known stranger things to happen. The worst aspect of your case is that Herr Hammersley is here. There was no need for him to come. You yourself admit that. He had only to stay in England to devote his talents to a more congenial occupation.” Von Stromberg puffed on his cigar and leaned across the table. “Can you tell me why Herr Hammersley came to Germany? Answer me correctly, Rizzio, and I will give you every masterpiece in Belgium.”
Rizzio frowned into the fire.
“I cannot say,” he replied. “I have admitted that he has puzzled me. I can only think of one thing.
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