“Yes, it is a trick, and I am taking it, and you have lost a point, to say nothing of the time and labor and a black eye.  If you had asked all these questions yesterday I should have told you that Mr. Hillars——­”

“Yes, that’s the name!” he interrupted.

“I should have told you that he is no longer the London representative of my paper.  It is true that the description of Hillars and myself tallies somewhat, only my hair is dark, while his is light, what there is left of it, and he is a handsomer man than I. All this I should have told you with pleasure, and you would have been saved no end of trouble.  I presume that there is nothing left for you to do but to carry me back to the city.  To quell any further doubt, here are my passports, and if these are not satisfactory, why take me before Prince O——­, your Chancellor.”

He was irresolute, and half inclined to believe me.

“I do not know what to do.  You know, then, the gentleman I am seeking?”

“Yes.”

“Would he enter this country under an assumed name?”

“No.  He is a man who loves excitement.  Whatever he does is done openly.  Had it been he instead of me, he would have thrown you out of the carriage at the first sign on your part that you were watching him.  He is a very strong man.”

“If he is stronger than you, I am half glad that I got the wrong man.  You strike a pretty hard blow.  But, whether you are the man I want, or not, you will have to remain till this afternoon, when the Count will put in appearance.  I daresay it is possible that I have made a mistake.  But I could not do otherwise in face of my instructions.”

“The Princess seems to me more trouble than she is worth.”

“It is possible that you have never seen her Highness,” he said, hinting a smile.  “She is worth all the trouble in the world.”

“If a man loved her,” I suggested.

“And what man does not who has seen her and talked to her?” he replied, pacing.

“The interest, then, you take in her discovery is not all due to that imposed upon you by Count von Walden?” I could not resist this thrust.

“The subject is one that does not admit discussion,” squaring his shoulders.

“Suppose we talk of something that does not concern her?  All this is a blunder for which you are partly to blame.  I have a bad lump on my head and you have a black eye.  But as you did what you believed to be your duty, and as I did what every man does when self-preservation becomes his first thought, let us cry quits.  Come, what do you say to a game of cards?  Let us play ecarte, or I will teach you the noble game of poker.  To tell you the truth, I am becoming dreadfully bored.”

“Believe me, I bear you no ill will,” he said, “and I am inclined to your side of the story.  Whoever you are, you have the bearing of a gentleman; and, now that we have come to an understanding, I shall treat you as such.  I have a pack of cards downstairs.  I’ll go and get them.  This is not my house, or I should have placed you in better quarters.  I shall leave the door unlocked,” a question in his eyes.