"The proof!" broke in the Prince, sharply, realising, perhaps, the justice of the reproach. "The proof! What is it? Speak quickly!"
"It is this, Your Highness," answered the detective, striving desperately to steady his voice, to speak intelligibly. "But an hour ago, the secretary of Lord Vernon was in conference with the father of those young ladies. He approached him in the smoking-room; he introduced himself; he sat down; he began a conversation. I should have overheard everything, but that, unfortunately, he was more clever than I thought. He suspected me. They went together to Monsieur Rushford's apartment—I followed, I listened at the keyhole; but they went on into an inner room, and the outer door was locked, so I could not—"
The Prince, who had listened to all this with blazing eyes, suddenly raised his arm with a furious gesture.
"Glück!" he shouted.
That faithful servitor appeared on the instant, his face alight with anticipation.
"But if there should be a plot!" protested Tellier, hesitating, even yet, on the threshold.
"If there is a plot," said the Prince, sternly, "someone shall suffer for it, depend upon that! But against gentlemen, the proof must be conclusive. Glück, show him out," and he shut the door upon the unhappy spy.
"It would have been well," observed Glück, calmly, coming back after a moment, "to have thrown him out in the first place."
"I agree with you," said his master. "You may do so whenever you find him here again, my friend," and for an instant Glück almost smiled.
"Will Your Highness dine in your apartment tonight?" he asked.