"The good Lord only knows! That girl! … Witness these grey hairs. Put the rascal in irons; I'll attend to his case when I arrive.… Where is Steinbock?"
"He was arrested this morning in Berlin; I have already applied for his extradition."
"Good! Now, be off with you! Leave no stone unturned. The expense is nothing; I will gladly pay it out of my private purse."
"I'll find her," said the minister grimly. His portfolio hung in the balance.
All at once the duke struck his hands together jubilantly.
"What is it?" asked the minister. "A clue?"
"Nothing, nothing! Be gone; you are wasting time."
The minister of police dashed out of the room as if pursued by a thousand devils. He knew the duke's mood; it was not one to cross or irritate. No sooner was he gone than the duke left his apartments and sought those of his niece. It might be a joke; it would do no harm to find out positively. But the beautiful suite was empty; even her Highness' maid was gone. He then knocked on the door which led into Betty's boudoir, not very gently either.
"Open!" he bellowed.
"Who is it?" demanded a maid's frightened voice.