Agent du Service de Surete"_
Beneath this was a pencilled line--"Concerning the question of the
succession."
The Prince stared at it a moment in some astonishment, not unmixed with
irritation. What could this fellow know concerning the succession? It
was most probably simply an impertinence. The Paris police were famous
for impertinences.
Glueck started for the door; since his master's boyhood, he had watched
over him, attended him--he could read his countenance like an open book.
The Prince glanced up.
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"I go to tell the imbecile that Your Highness will not see him,"
responded Glueck, impassively, his hand on the knob.
The Prince smiled. He had a great fondness for his old retainer.
"Wait," he said. "We must not permit ourselves to be governed by first
impressions, nor swayed by prejudice. It is just possible that this
fellow has something to tell me which I ought to hear. I can't afford to
disregard any chance. So inform M. Tellier that I will see him," and he
lighted a fresh cigarette resignedly.
As he watched the smoke turn gray in the sunlight, it suddenly occurred
to him that, in some unaccountable manner, the question of the
succession had receded somewhat into the background; it no longer seemed
to him of such overwhelming consequence; at least, he had not been
thinking of it a moment before, but of something very different--
There appeared at the door a figure which drew a stare of surprise from
Markeld, accustomed as he was to eccentric habiliment.
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