"I see it is useless for me to dissemble," he said, in a low tone. "But I am here strictly incognito, and I beg that you will not betray me. Where have we met?"
Dan's heart leaped with exultation. And then a little feeling of shame seized him. It was too bad to have to betray the fellow—but duty demanded it! Perhaps, however, it could be done in a way that would not be offensive. He opened his lips to explain, when a stocky figure suddenly thrust itself between them, and Dan found himself gazing into a pair of irate eyes.
"What is this?" demanded the newcomer, though his voice, too, was carefully lowered. "Who are you, sir?"
Dan felt his good resolutions ooze away at the other's brutal manner.
"I am a reporter," he said.
"What is your business?"
"Gathering news."
"Your business here, I mean?"
"I was just interviewing the Prince," explained Dan, blandly. "The Record would be very glad to have his opinion of the Moroccan situation, of the Italian war, of the triple entente, or of anything else he cares to talk about. Perhaps he could find a theme in the destruction of La Liberté."
He spoke at random, and was surprised to see how fixedly the other man regarded him, with eyes in which apprehension seemed to have taken the place of anger.