"Do we understand that you want to see the compact?" one of the cowled men asked suddenly of Mr. Grimm as he turned.
"No, I don't want to see it. I'd prefer not to see it."
With hatred blazing in his eyes the prince made his way toward the lamp, holding a parchment toward the blaze.
"There's nothing else to be done," he exclaimed savagely.
"Just a moment, please," Mr. Grimm interposed quickly. "Miss Thorne, is that the compact?"
She glanced at it, nodded her head, and then the flame caught the fringed edge of paper. It crackled, flashed, flamed, and at last, a thing of ashes, was scattered on the floor. Mr. Grimm rose.
"That is all, gentlemen," he announced courteously. "You are free to go. You, your Highness, and Miss Thorne, will accompany me."
He held open the door and there was almost a scramble to get out. The prince and Miss Thorne waited until the last.
"And, Miss Thorne, if you will give us a lift in your car?" Mr. Grimm suggested. "It is now four minutes of three."
The automobile came in answer to a signal and the three in silence entered it. The car trembled and had just begun to move when Mr. Grimm remembered something, and leaped out.