Then he thrust his hand into his coat pocket, stepped back, and concluded: "Who am I, Monsieur ?" Chauvenet shifted uneasily from one foot to another under the gaze of the five people who waited for his answer; then he screamed shrilly: "You are the devil--an impostor, a liar, a thief!" Baron von Marhof leaped to his feet and roared at Chauvenet in English: "Who is this man?
Whom do you believe him to be ?" "Answer and be quick about it!" snapped Claiborne.
"I tell you"-- began Chauvenet fiercely.
"_Who am I_ ?" asked Armitage again.
"I don't know who you are--" "You do not! You certainly do not!" laughed Armitage; "but whom have you believed me to be, Monsieur ?" "I thought--" "Yes; you thought--" "I thought--there seemed reasons to believe--" "Yes; and you believe it; go on!" Chauvenet's eyes blinked for a moment as he considered the difficulties of his situation.

The presence of Baron von Marhof sobered him.

America might not, after all, be so safe a place from which to conduct an Old World conspiracy, and this incident must, if possible, be turned to his own account.

He addressed the Baron in German: "This man is a designing plotter; he is bent upon mischief and treason; he has contrived an attempt against the noble ruler of our nation--he is a menace to the throne--" "Who is he ?" demanded Marhof impatiently; and his eyes and the eyes of all fell upon Armitage.
"I tell you we found him lurking about in Europe, waiting his chance, and we drove him away--drove him here to watch him.

See these things--that sword--those orders! They belonged to the Archduke Karl.