Even in my scared and bewildered state, I noticed that Karjuss took his dismissal as a lackey does from a master. He stood up, bowed to Starnberg, and with his clerk at his heels, strode out of the room.

“That’s better too,” said young Rudi. “I can’t endure these damned scriveners, can you? I wouldn’t have troubled you with him really, but there’s no doubt he explains legal technicalities well. Cigar? No?”

“He’s explained nothing, except that I’m the object of a damned conspiracy! God, why do you do this to me? Is it that damned bitch Lola? Is this how she takes her revenge on me?”

“Tut-tut,” says Rudi. “Be calm.” He seated himself on the edge of Karjuss’s desk, swung his legs a moment, and looked at me thoughtfully. Then he gave a slow chuckle.

“It’s too bad, really. I don’t blame you for being annoyed. The truth is, we haven’t been quite honest with you. You’re sure you won’t have a cigar? Oh, well, here’s how it is.”

He lit himself another weed, and held forth.

“I think Karjuss has convinced you that you’re in a most devilish mess. If we choose, we can shut you up for ever, and your ambassador, and your government would be the first to say ‘Amen’. Considering the charges, I mean.”

“Trumped-up lies!” I shouted. “False blasted witnesses!”

“But of course. As you yourself said, a dastardly plot. But the point is—you’re caught in it, with no choice but to do as you’re told. If you refuse—the charges are brought, you’re convicted, and good-night.”

And the insolent young hound grinned pleasantly at me and blew a smoke-ring.

“You devil!” cries I. “You—you dirty German dog!”

“Austrian, actually. Anyway, you appreciate your position?”

Oh, I appreciated it, no question of that. I didn’t understand how, or why, they had done this to me, but I was in no doubt of what the consequences would be if I didn’t play their infernal game for them—whatever it was. Blustering hadn’t helped me, and a look at Rudi’s mocking face told me that whining wouldn’t either. Robbed of the two cards which I normally play in a crisis, I was momentarily lost.

“Will you tell me why you’ve done this—why to me? What can you want of me, in heaven’s name?”

“There is a service—a very important service—which only you can perform,” says he. “More than that I can’t say, at the moment. But that is why you were brought to Munich—oh, it was all most carefully planned. Lola’s letter—dictated by me, incidentally—was not altogether inaccurate. ‘Most delicate’ really sums it up.”

“But what service could there possibly be that only I—”

“You’ll have to wait and see, and for heaven’s sake stop expostulating like the victim in a melodrama. Take my word for it, we didn’t go to so much trouble for nothing. Now, you’re a sensible man, I’m sure. Will you bow to the inevitable, like a good chap?”