"Have patience, my friend. This is not impudence; it is courage and prudence. I believe," re-addressing Hillars, "that once you were on the point of eloping with the Princess Hildegarde."
Hillars thrust his hands into his pockets.
"So they say."
"And yet you deny your regard for her!"
"Oh, as to that affair," said Hillars, easily, "it was the adventure more than anything else. It is not every man in my position who has such a chance. And then, perhaps, I saw a good newspaper story." The muscles in his jaws hardened, despite the airy tone he used.
"I see that there is nothing to be gotten from you." Then the Prince directed his glance to me. "And you, sir; what is she to you? What is her Serene Highness to you?"
"She is everything in the world to me," said I.
The consternation which followed cannot be described here. The Count stepped back, dumb-founded. Hillars regarded me as though he thought I had suddenly gone mad. The countenance of the Prince alone remained unruffled.
"Count," he said, laughing, "it seems that the Princess gathers lovers as a woolen coat does teasels. Her lovers—there must now be a legion!"
"You lie!" said Hillars, in an oddly suppressed tone. "You know that you lie."