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.
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