“You mean we are under arrest?” I asked.
“Those were the Prince’s orders—before this occurred.”
“You will find he is suffering from heart trouble, I expect; and pending the doctor’s arrival you had better loose the clothes about his neck, open the window to give him air, and let him take a glass of brandy.”
“Perhaps he has had some of that already,” he returned, his eye falling on the empty glass. He spoke with the knowing air of a man who suspects, and he seized the glass and put it beyond my reach.
“Do not forget I told you how to revive him, even if you are such a fool as your words suggest,” I answered contemptuously. “It was from that decanter there the brandy was poured; you had better seize that as well.”
The doctors were first to arrive, followed quickly by a police official, and shortly after by Pierre, the Prince’s confidential man.
The official spoke a few words to the doctors, and then turned to me.
Fortunately for us he was a very different stamp of man from his subordinate, and addressed me courteously.
“This is a very embarrassing position, monsieur. I understand that the Prince gave instructions for your arrest and detention.”
“We are of course at your disposal. I would first assure you that Prince Kalkov’s seizure is the result of illness merely, for which we are in no way responsible.”