“Why then? Are you enamoured of my person, or is it merely the Christian charity that it suits you Swiss folk to assume since the war?”
“Yes,” said Spoerri simply.
“I have three and a half millions here in my dispatch-case. If you dared to, you would strangle me, but you don’t dare, and that is all there is about it. That is your pure humanity and love. During the last year you have had somewhere about eighty-five thousand, six hundred and seventy-seven marks or more from me. … Is that enough to stifle the desire to murder a man?”
“Yes,” said Spoerri once more.
“Then you are a slave—my slave. Do you hear me? You are my slave.”
“I hear you.”
“Shall I slap your face? No; I won’t touch your slave-skin with my own. I just spit in the air.”
“Into the sea. You won’t pick a quarrel with anybody. There is no point of honour on the Lake of Constance.”
“Point of honour is an expression that doesn’t exist. A point is no larger than a squashed fly, and that’s the extent of a man’s honour—yours too, eh? You have some honour, even if the Lake of Constance has not?”
“I have never measured it.”
“Speak sense when you talk to me. I won’t stand your tomfoolery.”
“We are getting close to the shore.”
“Are you shirking, fellow?”
“No.”
“You dog!” said Mabuse in a stifled voice, in growing wrath. “I feel hatred tingling in my fingertips. I shall grasp you by the throat, you cur, you cowardly cur, and I shall annihilate you just as the electric current in the American death-chair does, you miserable wretch!”
At this moment the engine stopped. For some time the sounds of the boats behind them had ceased.
“Why have we stopped?” asked Mabuse angrily. “I gave no orders.”
“There is no signal from the shore.”
Then Mabuse came to himself again. He stood up, gnashing his teeth, and asked:
“What is the matter?”
“We must wait. We can always rely on Solly. There is something wrong.”
“Let us wait! Have you weapons ready?”
“Yes, but if we don’t get the signal, we’d better get into the skiff. Then we can row back to the other boats.”
Behind Romanshorn a searchlight began to play, throwing a beam of light into the sky. It moved lower and peered about through the darkness, probing closely and lingering in places, then was directed towards the waters in the middle of the lake. It rose in the sky once more and then fell pitilessly on the very spot where Mabuse’s boat was lying. His knees trembled under the tension.
Suddenly, however, the shaft of light was fixed on a house standing out prominently in Romanshorn, just where the new church stood on a hill, and those in the boat perceived that the other craft must be far beyond on the other side of the point, and did not signify any danger. Their boat remained in darkness. In the railway-station on the shore lamps hung here and there at some distance from each other, and their reflections gleamed fitfully on the black waters. Then Mabuse said sternly:
“No, we’ll stay here! Tell George to get the pneumatic gun fastened to the engine.”
Spoerri sprang to do his bidding.
Under the cushions there was a poison-gas installation. Mabuse opened the nozzle. The wind was from the southwest and therefore favourable to his purpose. He prepared masks for himself and his companions and tried their fastenings.
Then he saw on shore a light which shone out brightly and was at once extinguished, then came again and flickered and was still. The engine started again, and the boat was soon in the channel, gliding under the trees, where it finally came to a standstill. The engine was silent, and a man ashore threw out a cable. Then Mabuse heard someone say, “Dr. Ebenhügel.”
“Yes,” he ordered, “let him come on board.”
A dim form stepped across the gangway.
“It is I, Ebenhügel, Doctor. I have just come from Zürich. It is on account of my car that Solly did not give the signal punctually. The Customs authorities are on the watch every night with their cars now. Did you get my wire? There is something wrong, for the clerk has sent a warning. He could not tell us what was up, but from some reply to one of his superiors he gathered that it came to the Consulate headquarters in Zürich from the Munich Criminal Investigation Department.”
“So,” said Mabuse, closing his jaws firmly, “my lord Wenk is on the track, is he? Just you wait a while, my fine official!” Then, turning to Ebenhügel, he continued, “I am constantly in danger, but I’ve never come to grief yet.”
“I meant to say that this danger can only be averted in Munich. If anything goes wrong, they must not be able to put the responsibility on us here in Zürich.”
Mabuse answered roughly, “What do you mean by that?”
“This affair is of great importance for several people.”
“For whom then?”
“For myself, for example!”
Mabuse waved his hand with a threatening gesture of dismissal, while the other stood breathless.
“I have not been drinking,” said Mabuse. “How came you to alter my plans for such a trifle?”
“I thought it was necessary to warn you. The post is being watched, and people are not reliable.”
“Who is to convince me that you are reliable? You are one of the people too.”
“Our common interests should convince you, Doctor. I merely meant to tell you that it is from Munich that the danger threatens. You would be safe in Switzerland. You have accumulated wealth which allows you to live wherever you like. Stay here; you will be safe among us.”
“A lot you know about that! Your business is to look after my investments, nothing else. You are but my manager. Enough on that head. Is there anything else to tell me?”
The lawyer described his latest financial operations to Mabuse, who took down the descriptions furnished him. Then he walked backwards and forwards alone on the foreshore for five minutes, to ease himself after his
