Inside Lucille was pale with
fury.
"What! I am a prisoner, then!" she exclaimed. "How dare you
lock me in? This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of
all this stupid espionage."
The Prince stood with his back to the door.
"It is for your own sake, Lucille. The house is watched."
She sank into a low chair, trembling. The Prince had all the
appearance of a man himself seriously disturbed.
"Lucille," he said, "we will do what we can for you. The whole
thing is horribly unfortunate. You must leave England to-night.
Muriel will go with you. Her presence will help to divert suspicion.
Once you can reach Paris I can assure you of safety. But in this
country I am almost powerless."
"I must see Victor," she said in a low tone. "I will not go
without."
The Prince nodded.
"I have thought of that. There is no reason, Lucille, why he should
not be the one to lead you into safety."
"You mean that?" she cried.
"I mean it," the Prince answered. "After what has happened you are
of course of no further use to us. I am inclined to think, too,
that we have been somewhat exacting. I will send a messenger to
Souspennier to meet you at Charing Cross to-night."
She sprang up.
"Let me write it myself."
"Very well," he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders.
Pages:
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298