"Well, and—and the artist, who is he?"
"It was not a man, but a woman—a girl," said Blair quietly and wearily.
Austin Ambrose started, and his eyes flashed. He saw it all in a moment. The picture had been painted by Margaret herself! The prince had fallen in love with her, she had told him her story, and the prince meant to avenge her.
"And—and this girl—this wonderful artist—where is she?"
He asked the question lightly enough, but his soul quaked as as Blair replied:
"Here, in Naples!"
"Here, in Naples?"
There was a moment's silence. Margaret here in Naples! Blair challenged by the prince! Any moment and his astute plans might be shattered at his feet.
He was not altogether a coward, but at the thought of the two narrow chances Blair had had of learning his—Austin's—villainy, he quivered from head to foot.
"And now you have it all," said Blair quietly. "Why Prince Rivani should want to fight me I cannot conceive, can you?"