Pride has a fall
Shortly before six o'clock that evening, the door of Lord Vernon's
apartment opened, and the Prince of Markeld appeared on the threshold,
bowed out in the politest manner possible by Blake, Collins, and Sir
John. He crossed the corridor, paused irresolutely at the stairhead,
then went on toward his own rooms, his head bent, his face expressing
the liveliest dissatisfaction: an expression which deepened to disgust
when, on opening his door, he perceived Tellier awaiting him within.
"He would come in," explained Glück, after a glance at his master's
countenance. "He lied; he said Your Highness was expecting him. Shall I
throw him out?"
"No," said the Prince, "not yet," and Glück retired to a convenient
distance, confident that his hour would yet arrive.
The detective, apparently, had no uneasiness concerning the result of
the interview, for his face was beaming with self-importance and he
greeted the Prince with a confidence born of certainty. His eyes asked
the question which his lips were too well-governed and discreet to
articulate.
"Tellier," began the Prince, abruptly, looking at him with a fiery
glance, "you are either a knave or a fool--a fool, doubtless, since you
seem too stupid to be a knave--and you very nearly made me appear
another!"
The detective's face dropped suddenly from triumph to humility.
"I do not understand," he faltered. "Does Your Highness mean--"
"I mean that that story of yours was a ridiculous lie!" responded the
Prince, brutally, being, indeed, greatly overwrought. "How do I know,"
he added, suddenly, "that you did not intentionally deceive me? I have
only your word--what is that worth? How do I know that it was not a
trick--a trick on the part of your government to involve me with
England? That would be like you!" and his hands clenched and unclenched
in a most threatening manner.
"I swear to Your Highness," protested Tellier, his cheeks livid, his
lips quivering convulsively, "that I told only the truth! On my heart, I
swear it--on my soul--on the grave of my mother. Otherwise, pardieu,
would I have been so imprudent as to remain here awaiting the return of
Your Highness?"
The Prince's face relaxed a little as he looked at him.
"No," he agreed, grimly, after a moment. "I don't believe you would.
Yes, you are a fool and not a knave. For I have just seen Lord Vernon
with my own eyes--he is truly ill--sneezing as though his head would
burst, gasping for breath, his eyes running water, cursing even the
friends who nurse him! It was some one else who kicked my dog away. You
have been deceived."
Tellier was walking up and down the room, tugging at his imperial, at
his hair, biting his nails, shaking his clenched hands at the ceiling in
a very ecstasy of bewilderment.
"Impossible!" he murmured, hoarsely. "Impossible!"
"How impossible!" cried the Prince, violently. "Do you presume to
contradict me? Do you dare to dispute my word when I tell you that I
myself have seen Lord Vernon; when I describe his condition to you? He
was most courteous, though he could not speak above a whisper--he
treated me more kindly than I deserved, when one considers the wording
of that note I sent to him, for which I was glad to apologise! One could
see he was in no condition to give me audience--to discuss business of
any kind! He could scarcely sit erect!"
"Oh, there is some knavery!" cried Tellier, his face purple. "I know it!
I scent it!"
"You are, then, infallible, I suppose!" retorted the Prince. "His
physician assured me that in a week Lord Vernon would be much
better--nearly well; he suggested that for a week I do not press my
business."
"But you did not agree!" screamed Tellier. "Your Highness did not
agree!"
"Most certainly I agreed. Not to agree would have been to insult them
yet a second time!"
"A week!" groaned Tellier, throwing up his hands, with a gesture of
despair. "Then all is lost!"
"How lost?" demanded Markeld, red with anger. "In what way lost? Have a
care of what you say!"
Tellier controlled himself by a mighty effort and managed to speak with
some approach to calmness.
"The German Emperor will not waste a week, Your Highness. That is not
his way, as you very well know. He will be at work every hour--every
minute!"
"What can he accomplish, if the British foreign office will do nothing?
Will he take the affair into his own hands? He will not dare!"
"He might dare, Your Highness; he has dared things more perilous than
that. But how do we know the British foreign office will do nothing?"
"I tell you," repeated the Prince, hotly, "that Lord Vernon is a
gentleman--something you do not seem to understand; that he is ill--
something you seem to doubt!"
"In diplomacy, Your Highness, even a gentleman may sometimes lie, or, at
least, disguise the truth. Perhaps even before this, he has hinted to
the Emperor that he will not interfere, if he acts promptly--perhaps
this illness is merely a ruse to avoid a situation the most awkward."
It was the Prince's turn to stride up and down, to pluck at his
moustache, to go red and white.
"If I thought so!" he murmured hoarsely. "If I thought so!"
"There is some underhand work in progress," cried Tellier, growing more
and more excited; "some trap, some piece of trickery--I know not
what--but I am certain--I will find out!"
"If I thought so!" said the Prince again, and his face was not pleasant
to look upon.
"For I repeat to Your Highness that I could not have been mistaken. It
is impossible that I should have been mistaken. I saw Lord Vernon leap
from his chair; I was as near it as I am to you at this moment; I saw
him return to it and hide himself behind his paper, when he saw you
approaching; I waited, and saw his lackeys come after him and lift him
to the invalid chair. If I had not been certain before, I was certain
then! I followed him back to the hotel. Yes!" he added, with sudden
excitement, "and there was another circumstance which will confirm me!"
"Go on!" commanded Markeld, yielding somewhat before this torrent of
proof.
"At the door he met the young ladies whom he had rescued--the Americans;
they recognised him--I could see their look of astonishment at
perceiving him in the chair of an invalid, buried in rugs. They stared
after him--the chair stopped--he wrote a few words on a piece of paper
and sent it back to them. They read it with eyes even more astonished."
"Did you, by any chance, read it also?" inquired the Prince, with a
deceptive calmness.
"No, Your Highness," Tellier replied, simply, quite unconscious of his
danger. "I saw no way of doing that, unfortunately. I thought of
snatching it away, but that would have created a turmoil, which is
always to be avoided if possible. But Your Highness might easily gain
possession of the note--"
The Prince stopped him with a fierce gesture of repugnance.
"Do you know what it is that you have the effrontery to propose to me?"
he demanded.
The Frenchman paused in mid-sentence and swallowed with difficulty, his
face very red.
"I am certain," he said, after a moment, "that those young ladies know
it was Lord Vernon who rescued them. They would no doubt confirm this,
if Your Highness would inquire--"
The Prince strode to the door and flung it open.
"Do not come back till you can speak without insulting me," he said,
sternly.
"One moment, Your Highness!" cried Tellier. "But a moment! I have
another proof. Oh, you are wrong not to believe me! You are wrong to
yield to your anger!"
"The proof!" broke in the Prince, sharply, realising, perhaps, the
justice of the reproach. "The proof! What is it? Speak quickly!"
"It is this, Your Highness," answered the detective, striving
desperately to steady his voice, to speak intelligibly. "But an hour
ago, the secretary of Lord Vernon was in conference with the father of
those young ladies. He approached him in the smoking-room; he introduced
himself; he sat down; he began a conversation. I should have overheard
everything, but that, unfortunately, he was more clever than I thought.
He suspected me. They went together to Monsieur Rushford's apartment--I
followed, I listened at the keyhole; but they went on into an inner
room, and the outer door was locked, so I could not--"
The Prince, who had listened to all this with blazing eyes, suddenly
raised his arm with a furious gesture.
"Glück!" he shouted.
That faithful servitor appeared on the instant, his face alight with
anticipation.
"But if there should be a plot!" protested Tellier, hesitating, even
yet, on the threshold.
"If there is a plot," said the Prince, sternly, "someone shall suffer
for it, depend upon that! But against gentlemen, the proof must be
conclusive. Glück, show him out," and he shut the door upon the unhappy
spy.
"It would have been well," observed Glück, calmly, coming back after a
moment, "to have thrown him out in the first place."
"I agree with you," said his master. "You may do so whenever you find
him here again, my friend," and for an instant Glück almost smiled.
"Will Your Highness dine in your apartment tonight?" he asked.
The Prince hesitated; then his face relaxed as at some pleasant thought.
"No, Glück," he said, "I will dine downstairs. Get my bath ready."