The Princess had listened with growing conviction that he was right; now she turned to Moore.
“And what is your best judgment?” she asked.
“That His Highness has the argument,” was the prompt reply; “and I confess I was hitherto of your mind, and urged him, all I might, to let me go in his stead. Now, I am convinced not only that we should verify Mrs. Spencer’s story, but that the Archduke must do it.”
“And because he has seen the Book, and can identify it beyond doubt?”
“Exactly that, Your Highness; such identification is vital.”
Dehra nodded and sipped her cordial meditatively; while Armand watched her in sudden disquiet; he had seen that look on her face a few times only, and it always presaged some amazing decision that was immutable—and not always to his approval. When she raised her eyes, it was with the conquering smile that he had never yet stood out against for long.
“Armand,” said she, “you and Colonel Moore have persuaded me; it is right for you to go, and I’ll go with you——”
“What! You!” the Archduke cried—“are you crazy, child?”
“Not in the least, dear; only very sensible to your cogent logic—who can identify the Book so well as I, who have known it all my life; you have seen it but once, you know.”
“But the danger!”