"I would advise no one to touch me," said Fanfaro, coldly.
At this moment a hand was laid on Fanfaro's shoulder, and a deep voice said:
"In the name of the king, you are my prisoner!"
As if struck by lightning, the young man gazed upon an old man who wore a dark uniform with a white and gold scarf. All the entrances to the ballroom were occupied by soldiers, and Fanfaro saw at once that he was lost.
"My lord marquis," said the officer, turning to the master of the house, "I regret very much to disturb you, but I must obey my order. Less than an hour ago a man with a knife in his hand entered the apartments of his majesty and said that he intended to kill the king."
A cry of horror followed these words, and, pale and trembling, the guests crowded about the officer, who continued after a short pause:
"Asked about his accomplice, the would-be murderer declared that he was an agent for a secret society whose chief the prisoner Fanfaro is."
"Oh, what a monstrous lie!" exclaimed Fanfaro, beside himself with rage, while Irene de Salves rose upright and with flaming eyes said:
"He a murderer? Impossible!"
"Prudence," whispered Arthur to the young woman, "what I can do for him I will."