"Call it what you will," he answered quickly. "Name your own price for the child—brought here—to-night."
"No price that you or your mistress could pay, Baron," I answered quietly. "I told you my ultimatum two hours ago. The child remains with us until she is claimed by one who has a legal right, and is not afraid to invoke the law."
"But I have explained the position," the Baron protested. "You must understand why we cannot bring such a matter as this into the courts."
"Your story is ingenious, and, pardon me, it may be true," I answered. "We require proof!"
The Baron's face was not pleasant to look upon.
"You doubt my word, sir—my word, and the word of the Archduchess?"
I rose to my feet. Mabane followed my example. I felt that a storm was pending.
"Baron," I said, "there are some causes which make strange demands upon the best of us. A man may lie to save a woman's honour, or, if he be a politician, for the good of his country. I cannot discuss this matter any further with you. My sole regret is that we ever discussed it at all. My friend and I must wish you good-night."
"By heavens, you shall not go!" the Baron exclaimed. "What right have you to the child? None at all! Her Highness wishes to be generous. It pleases you to flout her generosity. Mr. Arnold Greatson, you are a fool! Don't you see that you are a pigmy, who has stolen through the back door into the world where great things are dealt with? You have no place there. You cannot keep the child away from us. You have no influence, no money. You are nobody. If you think——"
Mabane interposed.