"Nor frightening him," added Collins. "I'm afraid I made a mistake taking that tack. I'll go down and get off a message."
As he opened the door, he fancied that a figure melted into the shadow at the end of the hall. But his attention was distracted from it, for an instant later, he heard a step on the stair, and the Prince of Markeld mounted from the floor below, passed him with the slightest possible inclination of the head, and continued upward. Collins, staring after him, standing still as death, heard him enter the apartment of the Rushfords.
He remained a moment where he was, his heart heavy with foreboding, then he descended slowly to the office, his head bent, deep in thought. So preoccupied was he that he did not see the sleek face which leered at him from the shadow into which the dim figure had vanished.
The spy listened a moment intently; then, with a tread soft as a cat's, mounted the stair to the floor above.
* * * * *
"Of course, dad," Susie had said, in the early evening, "you will have to stay at home to-night since the Prince is coming to see you."
"Oh, it's not I he's coming to see," rejoined Rushford, easily. "In fact, he'll probably be tickled to death to find me out.''
"He's not going to find you out," retorted Susie, firmly. "You're going to stay right here."
"Nonsense, my dear! Why, when I was courting your mother—"
"What has that to do with it?" demanded Sue, very crimson. "Do you mean to say that someone is courting someone around here?"