"The Prince has explained them to me. It was altogether a misunderstanding. He felt his foot a little easier, and he was simply looking for a newspaper or something to read until you returned. Inadvertently he turned over some of your manuscript, and at that moment you entered."
"Most inopportunely, I am afraid," I answered, with an unwilling smile.
"I am sorry, Lord Blenavon, that I cannot accept this explanation of the
Prince's behaviour. I am compelled to take the evidence of my eyes and
ears as final."
Blenavon sucked at his cigarette fiercely for a minute, threw it away, and commenced to roll another.
"It's all rot!" he exclaimed. "Malors wouldn't do a mean action, and, besides, what on earth has he to gain? He is a fanatical Royalist. He is not even on speaking terms with the Government of France to-day."
"I perceive," I remarked, looking at him closely, "that you are familiar with the nature of my secretarial work."
He returned my glance, and it seemed to me that there was some hidden meaning in his eyes which I failed to catch.
"I am in my father's confidence," he said slowly.
There was a moment's silence. I was listening to a distant voice in the lower part of the hall.
"Am I to take it, Mr. Ducaine, then," he said at last, "that you decline to apologize to the Prince?"
"I have nothing to apologize for," I answered calmly. "The Prince was attempting to obtain information in an illicit manner by the perusal of papers which were in my charge."