“I have always considered myself one,” Brott answered.  “I am beginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the same estimation.”

“You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!” the Prince exclaimed.  “That is so, eh?”

The Prince drew a long breath.

“Brott,” he said, “I am forced to confide in you.  Lucille is in terrible danger.  I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually help her but you.  Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake—­to leave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?”

Brott’s eyes were suddenly bright.  The Prince quailed before the fierceness of his gaze.

“She would not go!” he exclaimed sharply.

“She will,” the Prince answered.  “She must!  Not only that, but you will earn her eternal gratitude.  Listen, I must tell you the predicament in which we find ourselves.  It places Lucille’s life in your hands.”

“What?”

The exclamation came like a pistol shot.  The Prince held up his hand.

“Do not interrupt.  Let me speak.  Every moment is very valuable.  You heard without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel.  It took place in Mr. Sabin’s sitting-room.  The victim was Mr. Sabin’s servant.  The inquest was this afternoon.  The verdict was death from the effect of poison.  The police are hot upon the case.  There was no evidence as to the person by whom the poison was administered, but by a hideous combination of circumstances one person before many hours have passed will be under the surveillance of the police.”

“And that person?” Brott asked.

The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room was empty.

“Lucille,” he whispered hoarsely.

Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.

“What damned folly!” he exclaimed.

“It is possible that you may not think so directly,” Saxe Leinitzer continued.  “The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and it is a rare one, from a man who has absconded.  An hour before this man was found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairs to Mr. Sabin’s room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man died from a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin’s special liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three or four times a day.  All these are absolute facts, which at any moment may be discovered by the police.  Added to that she is living apart from her husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him.”

Brott as gripping the back of a chair.  He was white to the lips.

“You don’t think,” he cried hoarsely.  “You can’t believe—­”

“No” the Prince answered quickly, “I don’t believe anything of the sort.  I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead.  You yourself should know why.  But no, I don’t believe she went so far as that.  It was an accident.  But what we have to do is to save her.  Will you help?”