‘True, true,’ was the irritable response. ‘But tell me, do you see any likelihood of being able to bring the guilt home to anyone?’
‘Excuse me, Prince,’ answered Danevitch firmly, ‘I am not given to expressing ill-formed opinions, and, not being a prophet, I decline to run the risk of prophesying.’
‘Forgive me,’ said the Prince; ‘I am afraid I have allowed my anxiety to blind me to common-sense. But the fact is, this loss has preyed upon my mind terribly. It is a very serious affair indeed—very serious. Moreover, it shows that there is a traitor somewhere. If we have traitors about, the State is in danger. Therefore it is imperative that this matter should be sifted to the very bottom. No time, no money, no patience, no skill, must be spared. The truth will have to be revealed.’
‘I would venture to remind you, Prince,’ said Danevitch, ‘that the virtue of patience is one which, above all others, should be exercised in a case of this kind.’
The Prince was not indifferent to the point of the remark, and, bowing with consummate politeness, said:
‘Pardon me, Danevitch; I have perhaps been hasty. You understand your art better than I do. I have no right to dictate to you. Pray proceed on your own lines.’
‘Thank you,’ Danevitch replied. ‘We shall get on now. My object in requesting this interview is to ask who conveys your keys to Nicolayeff at night?’
‘No one. It is his duty to come to me and receive them. But as it often happens that it is not convenient for me to see him myself, the keys are then given to him by my valet—a fine youth named André.’
‘Did André give them to him the night before last, when the papers were stolen?’
‘No; I gave him the keys myself.’