The police guards came in from the hotel about ten o’clock, bearing marks of an ugly conflict with the Axphainians.  They reported that the avengers had been quelled for the time being, but that a deputation had already started for the castle to lay the matter before the Princess.  Officers had searched the rooms of the Americans for blood stains, but had found no sign of them.

“Did you find bloody water in which hands had been washed?” asked Anguish.

“No,” responded one of the guards.  “There was nothing to be found in the bowls and jars except soapy water.  There is not a blood stain in the room, Captain.”

“That shakes your theory a little, eh?” cried Anguish, triumphantly.  “Examine Mr. Lorry’s hands and see if there is blood upon them.”  Lorry’s hands were white and uncontaminated.  Dangloss wore a pucker on his blow.

Shortly afterward a crowd of Axphain men came to the prison gates and demanded the person of Grenfall Lorry, departing after an ugly show of rage.  Curious Edelweiss citizens stood afar off, watching the walls and windows eagerly.

“This may cost Edelweiss a great deal of trouble, gentlemen, but there is more happiness here this morning than the city has known in months.  Everybody believes you killed him, Mr. Lorry, but they all love you for the deed,” said Dangloss, returning at noon from a visit to the hotel and a ride through the streets.  “The Prince’s friends have been at the castle since nine o’clock, and I am of the opinion that they are having a hard time with the High Priestess.”

“God bless her!” cried Lorry.

“The town is crazy with excitement.  Messengers have been sent to old Prince Bolaroz to inform him of the murder and to urge him to hasten hither, where he may fully enjoy the vengeance that is to be wreaked upon his son’s slayer.  I have not seen a wilder time in Edelweiss since the close of the siege, fifteen years ago.  By my soul, you are in a bad box, sir.  They are lurking in every part of town to kill you if you attempt to leave the Tower before the Princess signs an order to restrain you legally.  Your life, outside these walls, would not be worth a snap of the fingers.”

Captain Quinnox, of the Princess’s bodyguard, accompanied by a half dozen of his men, rode up to the prison gates about two o’clock and was promptly admitted.  The young captain was in sore distress.

“The Duke of Mizrox has sworn that you are the murderer, Mr. Lorry, and stakes his life,” said he, after greetings.  “Her highness has just placed in my hands an order for your arrest as the assassin of Prince Lorenz.”

Lorry turned as pale as death.  “You—­you don’t mean to say that she has signed a warrant—­that she believes me guilty,” he cried, aghast.