“You must allow me to make a confession, Countess,” he said, easily. “I am not Ughtred of Tyrnaus. The Prince is on his way to the city with your brother, and, to tell you the truth, if they do not arrive here very soon my position will become extremely uncomfortable.”
She withdrew within the shelter of the panel and regarded him haughtily.
“You say that you are not Ughtred of Tyrnaus,” she exclaimed. “Then who are you? An impostor! Yes! You are in the royal chamber, and even now the people call for you. You are a tool of Domiloff’s. Good! The people shall know that they are being deceived!”
He was only just in time to seize her by the wrist. She wrenched herself free with a furious little cry, but he blocked her escape.
“Countess,” he said, with perfect respect, but with a gleam of laughter in his eyes, “pray do not desert me, for I am a friend of your brother’s, and especially of Prince Ughtred’s. I am not masquerading for the fun of the thing, I can assure you, but solely to outwit Domiloff. Permit me to explain, The fact is, I need your help.”
She eyed him coldly. The touch of his fingers seemed burning still upon her wrist.
“Well?”
“Three of us left England together,” Brand said. “Your brother, Prince Ughtred, and myself—Walter Brand, a newspaper writer and a person of no importance. I won’t stop to tell you how I became one of the party. It isn’t of any consequence, and time is. I happen to slightly resemble Prince Ughtred, and we got scent of a plot to stop our entrance into Theos. Well, Prince Ughtred and I exchanged identities. The consequences were these. The Prince and your brother left the train secretly before we left the frontier, I was drugged, and awoke to find myself tête-à-tête with a remarkably gentlemanly personage called Domiloff.”
Her eyes flashed fire. She came a little further into the room.