t pretty clear that I was not
enjoying it in the least. The idea of first partaking of the wretched
man's hospitality, and then coolly murdering him, was a little too much
for my stomach. Tiel, however, seemed rather amused than otherwise
with my attitude.

"We knocked him on the head at a quiet part of the road, stripped him
of every stitch of clothing, tied a large stone to his feet, and
pitched him over the cliff," he said calmly.

"And his clothes----," I began, shrinking back a little in my chair.

"Are these," said Tiel, indicating his respectable-looking suit of
black.

Curiously enough this was the only time I heard the man tell a tale of
this sort, and in this diabolical, deliberate, almost flippant way. It
was in marked contrast to his usually brief, concise manner of
speaking. Possibly it was my reception of his story that discouraged
him from exhibiting this side of his nature again. I certainly made no
effort to conceal my distaste now.

"Thank God, I am not in the secret service!" I said devoutly.

"I understand you are in the submarine service," said Tiel in a dry
voice.

"I am--and I am proud of it!"

"Have you never fired a torpedo at an inoffensive merchant ship?"

"That is very different!" I replied hotly.

"It is certainly more wholesale," said he.

I sprang up.

"Mr Tiel," I said, "kindly understand that a German naval officer is
not in the habit of enduring affronts to his service!"

"But you think a German secret-service agent should have no such
pride?" he inquired.

"I decline to discuss the question any further," I said stiffly.

For a moment he seemed exceedingly amused. Then he saw that I was in
no humour for jesting on the subject, and he ceased to smile.

"Have another cigar?" he said, in a quiet matter-of-fact voice, just as
though nothing had happened to ruffle the harmony of the evening.

"You quite understand what I said?" I demanded in an icy voice.

"I thought the subject was closed," he replied with a smile, and then
jumping up he laid his hand on my arm in the friendliest fashion. "My
dear Belke," said he, "we are going to be shut up together in this
house for several days, and if we begin with a quarrel we shall
certainly end in murder. Let us respect one another's point of view,
and say no more about it."

"I don't know what you mean by 'one another's point of view,'" I
answered politely but coldly. "So far as I am aware there is only one
point of