"He telephoned that my maid had been arrested on a serious charge and that I was to leave Hyacinth Villa at once with Mr. Guild. He said nothing about papers. But I remembered what I had promised you, and I put into my satchel what papers I had.... They nearly lost me my life," she added, gazing steadily at him.
"Do you mean to say that you knew the papers were compromising and still you undertook to bring them? Were you insane to attempt such a thing?"
"Circumstances alter conditions and absolve promises however solemn. Common sense decides where honour is involved."
She flushed brightly: "There I am more English than German, Kurt. A promise is a promise, and not"--she looked at him musingly--"not what the British press reproaches us for calling a 'scrap of paper.'"
He said grimly: "When a supposed friend suddenly aims a blow at you, strike first if you can and discuss the ethics afterward. We tore up that 'scrap of paper' before the dirty fingers of England could clutch it, that's all."
"And lost the world's sympathy. Oh, Kurt!"
"But we retained the respect born of fear. We invaded Belgium before the others could do it, that's all.... I do not care to discuss the matter. The truth is known to us and that is sufficient."
"It is not sufficient if you desire the sympathy of the world."
Von Reiter's eyes became paler and fixed and he worried the points of his up-brushed mustache with powerful, lean fingers.
"Make no mistake," he said musingly. "America's turn will come.... For all the insolence she has offered in our time of need, surely, surely the time is coming for our reckoning with her. We have not forgotten von Diederichs; we shall not forget this crisis. All shall be arranged with method and order when we are ready.... Where is that American--or Belgian, as he seems to think his honour of the moment requires him to be?"
"He did not come here when the others arrived from Lesse Forest."
"He's a fire-brand," said von Reiter coldly. "Our system of information informed us sufficiently. I should have had him extinguished at Yslemont had he not been the one man who stood any chance of getting into England and bringing you back."
"Also you trusted him," she said quietly.
"Yes, I did. He is a Gueldres of Yvoir. The Gueldres have never lied. When he said he'd return, that settled the matter." Von Reiter's eyes had an absent look as though following a detached idea, and his features became expressionless.