Brott's face darkened.
"Prince," he said, "who is that man?"
The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
"A man," he said, "who has more than once nearly ruined your
country. His life has been a splendid failure. He would have
given India to the Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled
away their chance. Once since then he nearly sold this country
to Germany; it was a trifle only which intervened. He has been
all his life devoted to one cause."
"And that?" Brott asked.
"The restoration of the monarchy to France. He, as you of course
know, is the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the
direct line of one of the most ancient and historical houses in
England. My friend," he added, turning to Mr. Sabin, "you have
stolen a march upon us. We had not even an opportunity of making
our adieux to the ladies."
"I imagine," Mr. Sabin answered, "that the cause of quarrel may
rest with them. You were nowhere in sight when they came out."
"These fascinating politics," the Prince remarked. "We all want
to talk politics to Mr. Brott just now."
"I will wish you good-night, gentlemen," Mr. Sabin said, and passed
into the hotel.
The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
"Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?" he said.
Brott laughed shortly.
"I imagine," he said, "that I should be an embarrassing guest to
you just now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255