was low and
musical; "the packet of diamonds lies here!"

And as he spoke the man at the table held up the missing packet.

Hague started forward, fists clenched.

"You have robbed me! Gott! you shall be sorry for this! Who the devil
are you, eh?"

"Sit down, Baron," was the reply. "I am Severac Bablon!"

Baron Hague paused, in the centre of the room, staring, with a sort of
madness, at this notorious free-booter--this suave, devilishly handsome
enemy of Capital.

Then he turned and leapt to the door. It was locked. He faced about.
Severac Bablon smoked.

"Sit down, Baron," he reiterated.

The head of the great Berlin banking house looked about for a weapon.
None offered. The big, carven, chair was too heavy to wield. With his
fingers twitching, he approached again, closer to the table.

Severac Bablon stood up, keeping his magnetic gaze upon the
Baron--seeming to pierce to his brain.

"For the last time--sit down, Baron!"

The words were spoken quietly enough, and yet they seemed to clamour
upon the hearer's brain--to strike upon his consciousness as though it
were a gong. Again Hague paused, pulled up short by the force of those
strange eyes. He weighed his chances.

From all that he had heard and read of Severac Bablon, his accomplices
were innumerable. Where this cell might be situate he could form no
idea, nor by whom or what surrounded. Severac Bablon apparently was
unarmed (save that his glance was a sword to stay almost any man);
therefore he had others near to guard him. Baron Hague decided that to
resort to personal violence at that juncture would be the height of
unwisdom.

He sat down.

"Now," said Severac Bablon, in turn resuming his seat, "let us consider
this matter of the million pounds!"

"I will not----" began Hague.

Severac Bablon checked him, with a gesture.

"You will not contribute to a fund designed to aid in the defence of
England? That is unjust. You reap large profits from England, Baron. To
mention but one instance--you must draw quite twenty thousand pounds per
annum from the firm of Romilis and Imer, Hatton Garden!"

Baron Hague stared in angry bewilderment.

"I have nothing to do with Romilis and Imer!"

"No? Then you can have no objection to my placing in the proper hands
particulars--which, you will find, have been abstracted from your
notebook--of the manner in which this parcel of diamonds reached Hatton
Garden! I have the letter from your agent in Cape Town,