"So be it, Herr Baron." The great dark eyes of the Princess transfixed the Ambassador like a pair of swords.
In the midst of these passages Fitz reassumed his rôle of generalissimo.
"Arbuthnot," he whispered to me, "you and Brasset and Vane-Anstruther guard the farthest door. Let no one enter or pass out. Coverdale and O'Mulligan will look after the other one."
In silence, and without ostentation, we disposed ourselves accordingly. Clearly it had not occurred to the Ambassador to expect compulsion to be levied in his own house, by half a dozen commonplace civilians in black coats.
We had hardly taken up our places when Fitz, who stood by the side of the Princess, received from her a look that was also a command. Thereupon, for the first time, he deigned to address the Ambassador.
"Baron von Arlenberg," he said, "the friends of her Royal Highness have no wish to use force majeure, but her Royal Highness desires me to inform you that she has it at her disposal. All the same, she is hopeful that your natural good sense will spare her the necessity of employing it."
Fitz's words were well spoken, but his tone, scrupulously restrained as it was, had an undercurrent of menace that the Ambassador and his two secretaries could hardly fail to detect. The cold eyes of his Excellency seemed to blaze with fury, but he made no reply.
The Princess took the arm of her husband, and moved a pace in the direction of the farther door. At the same moment the Ambassador made a movement to the left where a bell-rope hung from the wall.
"Baron von Arlenberg," said Fitz, in a tone that compelled him to stay where he was, "if you touch that rope I shall blow out your brains."
Fitz had the revolver in his hand already. He covered the Ambassador imperturbably. The two secretaries, although confused by the swiftness of the act, moved forward.