“A command for your immediate return to Krolvetz.  Matters of importance await you there.”

“And if I refuse to return?”

Chatelard’s shoulders went up and his hands spread out in that insolent gesture affected by certain Europeans.  Chamberlain stepped forward impatiently.

“Look here, you people,” he began, “you told me this chap was a bloomin’ kidnapper, and so I rounded him up—­I nabbed him.  And here you are exchangin’ howdy-do.  What’s the meaning of it all?”

As he spoke, Chamberlain’s eyes rested first on Melanie, then on Agatha, whom he had not seen before.  “By Jove!” he ejaculated.

“Whom did he kidnap?” questioned Melanie.

“Why, me, Miss Reynier,” cried Agatha.  “He stole my car and drugged me and got me into his yacht—­Heaven knows why!”

“Kidnapped!  You!” cried Melanie.

“Just so,” agreed Aleck.  “And now I see why—­you scoundrel!” He turned upon Chatelard with contemptuous fury.  “For once you were caught, eh?  These ladies are much alike—­that is true.  So much so that I myself was taken aback the first time I saw Miss Redmond.  You thought Miss Redmond was the princess—­masquerading as an opera singer.”

“Her Highness has always been admired as a singer!” cut in Chatelard.

“No doubt!  And even you were deceived!” Aleck laughed in derision.  “But when you take so serious a step as an abduction, my dear man, be sure you get hold of the right victim.”

“She was even singing the very song that used to be a favorite of her Highness!” remarked Chatelard.

“Your memory serves you too well.”

But Chatelard turned scoffingly toward Agatha.  “You sang it well, Mademoiselle, very well.  And, as this gentleman asserts, you deceived even me.  But you are indiscreet to walk unattended in the park.”

Agatha, unnerved and weak, had grown pale with fear.

“Don’t talk with him, Mr. Van Camp, he is dangerous.  Get him away,” she pleaded.

“True, Miss Redmond.  We only waste time.  Sheriff—­”

Again the sheriff advanced toward Chatelard, and again he was warned off with a hissing oath.  At the same moment a shadow fell within the other doorway.  As Chatelard’s glance rested on the figure standing there, his face gleamed.  He pointed an accusing forefinger.

“There is the abductor, if any such person is present at all,” said he.  “That is the man who stole the lady’s car and ran it to the dock.  He is your man, Mister Sheriff, not I.”

The accusation came with such a tone of conviction on the part of the speaker, that for an instant it confused the mind of every one present.  In the pause that followed, Chatelard turned with an insolent shrug toward Agatha.  “This lady—­” and every word had a sneer in it—­“this lady will testify that I am right.”

Agatha stared with a face of alarm toward the doorway, where Hand stood silent.