“That means you have had an exciting time,” he answered. “There are two emotions which I make a rule to deny myself rigidly, monsieur, and you have made me break the rule. They are enthusiasm and impatience. Now I am enthusiastic when I think of your act; and impatient to hear your account of it.”
But I was very far from impatient to give it him, and was indeed cudgelling my wits how to colour it.
“In the first place I have a pretty heavy item against you, Prince,” I said.
“For having let you embark in the thing, you mean. My dear M. Denver, I give you my solemn assurance I had no idea there would be anything like this result.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean the breach of the agreement between us that Boreski’s carriage should not be followed.”
“Ah, that!” and he threw up his hands. “Yes, that was bad. It failed; but those responsible for the failure have paid the penalty. They should have known that Boreski might bring one of those cursed motor-cars and thus be able to distance pursuit. I was served by short-sighted fools—and fools of that kind I do not keep in my employment. When I heard of it I was maddened.”
I let him run on in this way in the effort to draw me on to a side issue, for my object now was to gain time in the hope that the summons to the Emperor would come to interrupt the interview.
“I don’t refer to the failure, I mean the attempt. You promised that no attempt should be made.”
“My dear M. Denver, I give you my word that the thing was necessary. I should have done precisely the same had you been in truth the Emperor himself. Of course, you know, monsieur, that there are times when the commands even of kings have to be secretly disregarded.”
He gave the last sentence with a kind of semi-confidential air.