I turned to the door as I spoke, but the man standing there made no movement at all.
"Where, then, is Herr von Fromberg?" asked the older man, with incredulity manifest in his tone.
"I cannot tell you. I believe I know, but I am not at liberty to say."
"I did not think you would be," he returned dryly. "But are you prepared to go to the castle with us? You can explain afterward that we have taken you there wrongfully," he added, with ironical courtesy.
"Certainly I am not."
I spoke warmly, for his manner irritated me.
"Then will you have the goodness to inform me how it is that you are here in the character of Herr von Fromberg, with the people of the house looking upon you as that gentleman, and yourself answering to the name?"
My story was too tame and lame for me to think of telling it. I took shelter behind indignation.
"I shall certainly give no explanation which is demanded of me by those who have forced themselves into my room and hold me a prisoner in it in this way," I answered hotly.
"Then you will scarcely be surprised that, as I have been informed you are Herr von Fromberg, and you have answered to the name to me, I cannot accept your repudiation. I do not know why you are so anxious to deny your identity and to keep away from the great position that has opened to you since the death of the Prince's son."