“You will find the facts, as far as they are known, in this despatch from Rexopolis.”
Prince Carlo took the newspaper and eagerly perused the two columns outlining the situation at his capital. While he was reading, Ned Strong said to his father:
“How did you know, father, that Count Szalaki was the crown prince?”
“The Trumpet, Ned, has a long account of the occurrences that have made our manor-house unpleasantly notorious.”
“Ha!” cried Ned. “Our friend Mr. Benedict has been very energetic.”
“Furthermore,” continued Mr. Strong, “I have several despatches to-day from our representative in Vienna, who has been clever enough to suspect that Count Szalaki might be the Crown Prince Carlo.”
An exclamation of mingled astonishment and anger broke from Prince Carlo at this moment.
“Fejeravy!” he cried. “Fejeravy for President! It is impossible! Traitor! Fejeravy, whom we have trusted for years as our most loyal subject! It is incredible!”
Prince Carlo sank into a chair wearily. The treachery of the man who had been his father’s closest adviser overwhelmed him for a moment. Suddenly he looked up at his host, his jaw firmly set and a gleam in his eyes that proved that a new incentive had come to him urging his return to his distracted fatherland.