His face grew stern; and I saw the hand, that hung beside his chair, clench sharply.  Mrs. Spencer saw it, too.

“Don’t be angry, Duke,” she laughed.  “Be grateful for the privilege it gives you of being here to-night.”

Lotzen got up sharply and took a step toward the door.

“Going, Your Highness?” asked that softly-caressing voice.

He swung around.  “No, I’m not going,” he said—­and sat down.  “A man would be a fool to leave you just because you treated him heartlessly.”

This time, she lit the cigarette, voluntarily, and, leaning over, put it between his lips.

“Is that the way you saw it done?” she asked.

He seized her hand and held it for a moment; but, when he bent over it, she whisked it quickly away.

“Now, for the frank talk,” she laughed.

“By all means,” he said—­and settled back to listen.

She toyed with her cigarette; blowing the smoke at the shade and watching it rush out at the top.  It seemed to be a favorite trick of hers.

“Of course, Your Highness is aware that, by order of the Governor of Dornlitz, I am kept a prisoner within the walls of the inner city.”

Lotzen bowed.  “So, I have been informed.”

“I have tried every possible means to escape:  disguise, bribes, flattery—­and all of no avail.  My every motion is watched.  I am dogged by half the Secret Police of the Capital.  I’m not even sure of the fidelity of my own maid.”

“You poor child,” said Lotzen.

“I am sick of this sort of life.  It’s worse than a prison cell.  And it’s got to end—­and that, promptly.  I sought you, last night, at the Masque to tell you that you must get me away and out of this miserable Country.  I have completed my bargain; it is now for you to complete yours.”

The Duke’s face took on a look of perplexity.

“My dear girl,” he said, “I haven’t the remotest notion what you mean by your bargain and mine; but, I’m very ready to aid you to escape.  The difficulty is, I have absolutely no power over a single soldier or official in Dornlitz.  The Governor’s orders are absolute—­none but the King can reverse them.  And, alas! at this moment, I have very little influence with His Majesty.”

“Then, you decline to aid me?” she asked, very quietly—­the smoke was again going through the lamp shade.

“On the contrary, I am ready to do anything I can; but, I fear, I’m powerless.  Indeed, if you’re under the close surveillance you indicate, it would be about impossible.  And I know whereof I speak.  You would be no more immune in my carriage than in a public cab.  Even if I were beside you, you could not pass the gates.  It might, however, be effected in some way I cannot scheme, on the instant.  I will investigate and, if I can devise any method, I shall do my utmost to release you.”

She straightened up—­and the fan quit its beating.