‘“Our little introduction places us en rapport with each other,” he continued, closing the blade of his penknife with a snap. Even this remark was pregnant with meaning. It really meant that he understood me, or believed that he did. “And now I will tell you the business.”
‘He had been standing up to this moment, but here he seated himself, crossed his legs, and thrust his hands into his pockets. To the ordinary observer he would have appeared as the most unconcerned person in the world, but I could not fail to see that he was a master in the art of restraint. It was not difficult to determine that, beneath the cold, passionless, immobile face was tremendous anxiety, and a suppressed nervous energy, that could only be kept in subjection by extraordinary will-power.
‘“A special, confidential, and trusted courier,” he continued, “arrived here yesterday afternoon, and placed in my hands the draft of a secret treaty of the very greatest importance.”
‘Here he paused again, and looked at me in his peculiar manner, as if he was trying to thoroughly understand how I was affected by the information he was giving me. Or, on the other hand, it might have been that he had not quite made up his mind whether or not I was a fit and proper person to be entrusted with State business of such a momentous nature.
‘“Pray proceed, Prince,” I said, with the greatest unconcern.
‘“Bah!” he muttered, almost inaudibly, allowing irritation to display itself for a brief instant. His irritation arose, I inferred, because he failed to read me as easily as he imagined he could do. Perhaps that was not quite the case, but it was something of the kind. The exclamation had scarcely left his lips when he broke into a smile—a cold, cynical smile, but full of meaning. “That draft has been stolen,” he added abruptly, and watched to see what effect that announcement would have upon me.
‘But I merely said:
‘“I anticipated that.”
‘“Why?” he asked sharply.
‘“By your manner, Prince.”