There was enough moonlight for John to see that Weber’s face was distorted by an evil smile.

“You’ve been a trifle slow in discovering just what I am,” he said, calmly.  “I’ve wondered that a young man of your perception didn’t find me out earlier.”

John flushed.  The Alsatian’s effrontery, in truth, had been amazing and in that perhaps lay his success—­so far.

“It’s true,” he said, “I should have suspected you sooner, but it did not occur to me that human nature could be so vile.  To undertake such risks and to use so much trickery and guile there must be a powerful motive, and in your case I can’t guess it.  Now, Weber, why did you do it?”

“Let me drop my hands, Mr. Scott, and I’ll answer you,” said Weber.  “It’s difficult to argue a case in such a strained and awkward position.”

“Put them down, then, but remember that I’m watching you, and that I’m willing to shoot.  Now, go ahead.  Why have you been such a persistent enemy of Mademoiselle Lannes, her brother and myself?  Why have you been such a triple traitor?”

“Don’t call me a traitor, because a traitor I am not.  On the contrary I am loyal with a loyalty of which you, John Scott, an American, know nothing.  I’ve called myself an Alsatian, but really I am not.  I am an Austrian.  I was born on the Zillenstein estate of Prince Karl of Auersperg.  My family has served his for a thousand years.  Great as I hold Hapsburg and Hohenzollern, Auersperg means even more to me.  The Auerspergs are the very essence and spirit of that aristocracy and rule of the very highborn, in which I believe and to which your country and later the French have stood in the exact opposite.  Every time that my pulse beats within me it beats with the wish that you and all that you stand for should fail.”

John did not feel the slightest doubt of Weber’s sincerity.  The increasing moonlight, falling in a silver flood across his face, showed too clearly his earnestness.  Yet that earnestness was not good to look upon.  It was sinister, tinged strongly with the beliefs of an old and wicked past.  He too, like his master, was of the Middle Ages.

“And so in all these deeds you were serving Prince Karl of Auersperg?” said John.

“To the death.  It was a false escape that I planned for you at the chateau.  You were to have been shot down, but by an unlucky chance you escaped in the water.”

“I’ve surmised that already.”

“I’m an aviator, not so great as your friend Lannes, but no mean one nevertheless.  It was I who pursued him, when you were with him in the Arrow near Paris, and wounded him.”

“I’ve surmised that, too.”

“And when Prince Karl coveted Mademoiselle Julie Lannes—­and I do not blame him—­I was of the most help to him in that matter so near to his heart.  Do you understand that it was a great honor he offered Mademoiselle Lannes, to make her his morganatic wife?  He need not have offered her so much.”