Lecazes made a discreet movement of withdrawal.
"No, no, Baron," interposed Ferdinand. "I pray you to remain. I expected to find you here. I know, besides, that His Majesty has no secrets from you. Indeed, I suppose you are better informed concerning this tangle than I, for your fingers it is that have woven the mesh."
"To what does your Royal Highness allude?" asked Lecazes guardedly.
"To letters which I constantly receive," replied Ferdinand sharply. "Letters which have kept me awake more than one night."
"Love letters?" ironically inquired Lecazes. "Your Royal Highness inspires innumerable passions. 'Tis no marvel that these letters rain upon you. What I find amusing is your simplicity in taking them seriously."
The Prince's frank countenance darkened. His brow contracted and his lips curled disdainfully as he replied:
"Baron, I am not accustomed to discuss such questions with others,—least of all with the police! The matter concerns,—bah! why should I relate this to you?—the matter concerns a member of our family who has been rifled of personal documents and forced into exile, in order to avoid even more barbarous treatment."
"Will Your Royal Highness be good enough to mention the name of—this—member of the royal House?"
"You know his name better than I, since 'twas you who prepared the villainous ambuscade and the other iniquities which I shall not enumerate."
"Who is Your Royal Highness's informant?" asked Lecazes, turning livid.