"Mr. Brott," he said, "can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille's?"
Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face.
Saxe Leinitzer's agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed.
He had all the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
"I have always considered myself one," Brott answered. "I am
beginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the
same estimation."
"You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!" the Prince
exclaimed. "That is so, eh?"
The Prince drew a long breath.
"Brott," he said, "I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in
terrible danger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can
effectually help her but you. Are you prepared to make a great
sacrifice for her sake--to leave England at once, to take her to
the uttermost part of the world?"
Brott's eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before the
fierceness of his gaze.
"She would not go!" he exclaimed sharply.
"She will," the Prince answered. "She must! Not only that, but
you will earn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the
predicament in which we find ourselves. It places Lucille's life
in your hands."
"What?"
The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his
hand.
"Do not interrupt. Let me speak.
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