“It’s likely enough,” the Prince gasped. “He always wanted to be a monk.”
“You see now,” the Baron continued, “that your friend’s generosity was not so wonderful a thing. Count von Hern was watching you to-night at the Bridge Club. He has gone home; he is waiting now to receive you. Apart from that, the man Nisch, with whom you have played so much, is a confederate of his, a political tout, not to say a spy.”
“The brute!” Prince Albert muttered. “I am obliged to you, Baron, for having warned me,” he added, rising slowly to his feet. “I shall sign nothing. There is another way.”
De Grost shook his head.
“My young friend,” he said, “there is another way, indeed, but not the way you have in your mind at this moment. I offer you an alternative. I will give you notes for the full amount you owe to-night, so that you can, if you will, go back to the club direct from here and pay everything—on one condition.”
“Condition!”
“You must promise to put your hand to no document which the Count von Hern may place before you, and pledge your word that you have no further dealings with him.”
“But why should you do this for me?” the Prince exclaimed. “I do not know that I shall ever be able to pay you.”
“If you succeed to the throne, you will pay me,” the Baron de Grost said. “If you do not succeed, remember that I am a rich man, and that I shall miss this money no more than the sixpence which you might throw to a crossing-sweeper.”
The Prince was silent. His host unlocked a small cabinet and took from it a bundle of notes.