True, he did not know that
Max was at the bottom of all the shrewd blows dealt him of late, but he
probably had more than a suspicion of it. At any rate he was known to
have traced much of the money and valuables, recovered from his room, to
the bank at Maastricht which Madame Durend patronized. Knowing, then,
the authorship of that most daring exploit, it would have been strange
if he had not looked to the same quarter for an explanation of the
similar blows dealt him so soon after.

Yes, it would be a great triumph for Schenk, and the end of that
resolute opposition to the use of the Durend workshops for the benefit
of the German army that had taken such a grip upon our hero's mind. That
task he had made peculiarly his own. All the fixity of purpose he
possessed, and it was not a little, was concentrated upon keeping his
father's--his--works from aiding the projects of a brutal and
unscrupulous enemy.

To give it all up would not only be a victory for Schenk but a bitter
pill to himself--the uprooting of something that had taken deep root in
the inmost recesses of his mind.

The struggle was a long one, but it came to an end at last, and Max
returned to the town, scribbled a short note to Dale, which he left at
their lodging, and then walked directly to the governor's house.

At the door the sentry's bayonet barred his entry, but the officer of
the guard, on being informed that a man had applied to see the governor
on urgent business, came out and spoke to him. A few words were
sufficient, and Max was brought inside under a guard of two men while
the officer sought the governor with the welcome news that the man who
had destroyed the Durend workshops had given himself up. The governor
directed that he should be searched to ensure that he was not in
possession of firearms and then admitted to his presence.

The German governor of Liege was quite a typical Prussian officer,
stiffly erect, with bullet-head covered with short bristling grey hair,
well-twisted moustache, and fierce aggressive manner. He was the man who
had called upon Schenk on the never-to-be-forgotten occasion when Max
and Dale had been his uninvited guests underneath his office desk. To
say the least of it, he was not a man who was afraid of being too
severe.

"You are then this rascal who has burned the Durend machine-gun shop?"
he cried in a rasping voice as soon as Max had been led before him.

"Yes," replied Max, "but I am no rascal. The sh