"What are you going to do with it?" he asked quickly. "I tell you
I'm off out of the country to-night," Dorward declared. "I shall
head for England. Pearce is there himself, and I tell you it will
be just the greatest day of my life when I put this packet in his
hand. We'll make New York hum, I can promise you, and Europe too."

Bellamy's manner was perfectly quiet - too quiet to be altogether
natural. His hand was straying towards his pocket.

"Dorward," he said, speaking rapidly, and keeping his back to the
door, "you don't realize what you're up against. This sort of thing
is new to you. You haven't a dog's chance of leaving Vienna alive
with that in your pocket. If you trust yourself in the Orient
Express to-night, you'll never be allowed to cross the frontier.
By this time they know that the packet is missing; they know, too,
that you are the only man who could have it, whether the Chancellor
has told them the truth or not. Open it at once so that we get some
good out of it. Then we'll go round to the Embassy. We can slip
out by the back way, perhaps. Remember I have spent my life in the
service, and I tell you that there's no other place in the city
where your life is worth a snap of the fingers but at your Embassy
or mine. Open the packet, man."

"I think not," Dorward answered firmly. "I am an American citizen.
I have broken no laws and done no one any harm. If there's any
slaughtering about, I guess they'll hesitate before they begin with
Arthur Dorward. . . . Don't be a fool, man!"

He took a quick step backward, - he was looking into the muzzle of
Bellamy's revolver.