“Messieurs, will you do me the courtesy to unmask?”
The Duke ran his eyes over the four, and shrugged his shoulders.
“I thank you, messieurs,” said he, “I shall not forget you, believe me I shall not.—But where, cousin, is His Royal Highness the Archduke Armand?” (sneering out every word of the title). “Did you lose him on the way?—or is he skulking in the passage.”
Dehra laughed scornfully. “You change front quickly; a moment since you doubted his courage no more than your own. This is my own adventure; neither the Archduke, nor any one else in Dalberg Castle, is aware of it.”
Lotzen bowed. “My thanks, cousin, for that last bit of news—I know the better, now, how to dispose of you and your friends.”
The Princess walked over and sat on the corner of the desk.
“Am I to understand, my lord, that you would attempt to restrain me and my escort from leaving this castle?”
“Those who enter a residence with criminal intent, and are apprehended in the act, can hardly expect to escape unscathed. You have overlooked the fact, doubtless, that the privilege of high justice still attaches to this domain, though long since unexerted. Just what that justice will be I have not decided—enough, at present, that you are prisoners awaiting sentence, and since none will ever seek you here, I can let events determine when and where it will be pronounced.”
And Dehra understood just what was in his mind.
“Which is another way of saying, cousin, that when you have killed the Archduke or made him prisoner, it will be time enough to pass judgment on us.”