"Then I must do the improper thing," said Mr. Monk. "I haven't a key, and I musn't keep my servant up any longer. A quiet man like me can creep out without notice. Good night, Phineas, and take my advice about this. If you can't forget it, act and speak and look as though you had forgotten it." Then Mr. Monk, without much creeping, left the room.
The club was very full, and there was a clatter of voices, and the clatter round the Prince was the noisiest and merriest. Mr. Bonteen was there, of course, and Phineas as he sat alone could hear him as he edged his words in upon the royal ears. Every now and again there was a royal joke, and then Mr. Bonteen's laughter was conspicuous. As far as Phineas could distinguish the sounds no special amount of the royal attention was devoted to Mr. Bonteen. That very able editor, and one of the Academicians, and the poet, seemed to be the most honoured, and when the Prince went,—which he did when his cigar was finished,—Phineas observed with inward satisfaction that the royal hand, which was given to the poet, to the editor, and to the painter, was not extended to the President of the Board of Trade. And then, having taken delight in this, he accused himself of meanness in having even observed a matter so trivial. Soon after this a ruck of men left the club, and then Phineas rose to go. As he went down the stairs Barrington Erle followed him with Laurence Fitzgibbon, and the three stood for a moment at the door in the street talking to each other. Finn's way lay eastward from the club, whereas both Erle and Fitzgibbon would go westwards towards their homes. "How well the Prince behaves at these sort of places!" said Erle.
"Princes ought to behave well," said Phineas.
"Somebody else didn't behave very well,—eh, Finn, my boy?" said Laurence.
"Somebody else, as you call him," replied Phineas, "is very unlike a Prince, and never does behave well. To-night, however, he surpassed himself."
"Don't bother your mind about it, old fellow," said Barrington.
"I tell you what it is, Erle," said Phineas. "I don't think that I'm a vindictive man by nature, but with that man I mean to make it even some of these days. You know as well as I do what it is he has done to me, and you know also whether I have deserved it. Wretched reptile that he is! He has pretty nearly been able to ruin me,—and all from some petty feeling of jealousy."
"Finn, me boy, don't talk like that," said Laurence.
"You shouldn't show your hand," said Barrington.
"I know what you mean, and it's all very well. After your different fashions you two have been true to me, and I don't care how much you see of my hand. That man's insolence angers me to such an extent that I cannot refrain from speaking out. He hasn't spirit enough to go out with me, or I would shoot him."