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Updated: May 2, 2025
Von Holzen was a German, and that nation combines courage with so deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes think the former adjunct lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek told that in his student days this man had, after due deliberation, considered it necessary to fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face, might wonder what mark the other student bore as a memento of that encounter.
We are manufacturing day and night." "You are interested in Mr. Cornish," observed Mrs. Vansittart, coolly; and she saw a sudden gleam in Von Holzen's eyes. After all, the man had a passion over which his control was insecure the last, the longest of the passions hatred. He shrugged his shoulders.
Von Holzen was standing in the doorway looking at her. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Mrs. Vansittart's lips were drawn back, showing her even, white teeth. Von Holzen's quiet eyes were wide open, so that the white showed all around the dark pupil. Then he sprang at her without a word. She was a lithe, strong woman, taller than he, or else she would have fallen.
For Von Holzen's new system of making malgamite is not new at all, but an old system revived, which was set aside many years ago as too deadly. If it is not this identical system, it is a variation of it. They are producing the stuff for almost nothing at the cost of men's lives. In plain English, it is murder, and it must be stopped at any cost. You understand?" "Yes."
But Tony Cornish, who alone knew the full extent of Von Holzen's determination not to be frustrated, could not act for Dorothy's sake. A string of the quiet grey carts passed up Park Straat when the party assembled there had risen from the luncheon-table. Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade were standing together at the window, which was large even in this city of large and spotless windows.
His muscles tightened, and he smiled in Von Holzen's face. "When you were over in London a fortnight ago," he said, "you saw my uncle, and squared him. But I am not Lord Ferriby, and I am not to be squared. As to the financial part of this business" he paused, and glanced at the ledgers "that seems to be of secondary importance at the moment. Besides, I do not understand finance."
None of the malgamite workers recognized him; indeed, he saw none of those whom he had brought across to The Hague, and he did not care to ask too many questions. At length, as we have seen, he arrived at the conclusion that Von Holzen's schemes had been too deeply laid to allow of attack by subtler means, and as a preliminary to further action called on Mrs. Vansittart.
It was Von Holzen's habit to shut himself within his cottage for days together, living there in solitude like some crustacean within its shell. At the door he turned, with his fingers on the handle. "You must not worry yourself about this," he said to Roden, with averted eyes. "It cannot be helped, you know." "No; I know that." "And of course we must keep our own counsel. Good night, Roden."
"It is no good thinking of etiquette now or pretending " "No," said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, so that the sentence was never finished. "I found nothing except two torn envelopes in the waste-paper basket. One in an uneducated hand perhaps feigned. The other was Otto von Holzen's writing." "Ah! In Otto von Holzen's writing addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at Scheveningen?" "Yes."
They crossed the sandy space between this cottage and the others grouped round the factory like tents around their headquarters. One of these huts was Von Holzen's a three-roomed building where he worked and slept. Its windows looked out upon the factory, and commanded the only entrance to the railed enclosure within which the whole colony was confined.
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