The valet flew out of the door, while the duke began pacing up and down the room, muttering and growling, and balling his fists, and jingling his shining medals. He kicked over an inoffensive hassock and his favorite hound, and I don't know how many long-winded German oaths he let go. (It's a mighty hard language to swear in, especially when a man's under high pressure.)
"The silly little fool! And on a night like this! Curse it! This is what comes of mixing Spanish blood with German, of letting her aunt's wishes overrule mine in the matter of education. But she shall be brought back, even if I have to ask the assistance of every sovereign in Europe. This is the end. And I had planned such a pleasant evening at cards!" The duke was not wholly unselfish.
In less than ten minutes' time the valet returned with the minister of police. The duke immediately dismissed the valet.
"Your serene Highness sent for me?" asked the minister, shaking in his boots. There had been four ministers of police in three years.
"Yes. Read this."
The minister took the letter. He read it with bulging eyes. "Good heavens, it must be one of her Highness' jokes!"
"It will be a sorry joke for you if she crosses any of the frontiers."
"But—"
"But!" roared the duke. "Don't you dare bring up that word scandal! Seek her. Turn everybody out,—the army, the police, everybody. When you locate her, telegraph, and have a special engine awaiting me at the station. And if you play a poor game of cards to-night I'll take away your portfolio. Remember, if she passes the frontier, off goes your official head!"
"And the fellow, who is he?"