“I find that my manner of life keeps the brain clear,” Prince Shan said slowly.  “I can see the truth sometimes when it is not very apparent.  I saw the truth last night, Immelan, when I sent Sen Lu to die.”

Immelan’s expression was indescribable.  He sat with his mouth wide open.  The hand which held his glass shook.  He stared across the bowl of lilies to where his host was looking up through the smoke towards the ceiling.

“Sen Lu was a traitor,” the latter went on, “a very foolish man who with one act of treachery wiped out the memory of a lifetime of devotion.  In the end he told the truth, and now he has paid his debt.”

“What do you mean?” Immelan demanded, in a voice which he attempted in vain to control.  “How was Sen Lu a traitor?”

“Sen Lu,” the Prince explained, “was in the pay of those who sought to know more of my business than I chose to tell—­who sought, indeed, to anticipate my own judgment.  When they gathered from him, and, alas! from my sweet but frail little friend Nita, that the chances were against my signing a certain covenant, they came to what, even now, seems to me a strange decision.  They decided that I must die.  There I fail wholly to follow the workings of your mind, Immelan.  How was my death likely to serve your purpose?”

Immelan was absolutely speechless.  Three times he opened his lips, only to close them again.  Some instinct seemed to tell him that his companion had more to say.  He sat there as though mesmerised.  Meanwhile, the Prince lit another cigarette.

“A blunder, believe me, Immelan,” he continued thoughtfully.  “Death will not lower over my path till my task is accomplished.  I am young—­many years younger than you, Immelan—­and the greatest physicians marvel at my strength.  Against the assassin’s knife or bullet I am secure.  You have been brought up and lived, my terrified friend, in a country where religion remains a shell and a husk, without comfort to any man.  It is not so with me, I live in the spirit as in the body, and my days will last until the sun leans down and lights me to the world where those dwell who have fulfilled their destiny.”

Immelan drained the contents of the glass which his unsteady hand was holding.  Then he rose to his feet.  The veins on his forehead were standing out, his blue eyes were filled with rage.

“Blast Sen Lu!” he muttered.  “The man was a double traitor!”

“He has atoned,” his companion said calmly.  “He made his peace and he went to his death.  It seems very fitting that he should have received the dagger which was meant for my heart.  Now what about you, Oscar Immelan?”

Immelan laughed harshly.

“If Sen Lu told you that I was in this plot against your life, he lied!”

The Prince inclined his head urbanely.

“Such a man as Sen Lu goes seldom to his death with a lie upon his lips,” he said.  “Yet I confess that I am puzzled.  Why should you plan this thing, Immelan?  You cannot know what is in my mind concerning your covenant.  I have not yet refused to sign it.”