The prince paced up and down the room in deep concentration, then he took up his telephone. After long waiting he got the number he desired.
“Is this one of the servants?” he asked. “Yes? Will you awaken General Valenko and tell him that Prince Berloff is coming over to see him immediately on a matter of the very gravest importance?”
He hung up the receiver. “Mr. Freeman, I want you and Captain Nadson to come with me to Prince Valenko’s. I shall want your evidence. I think you will know what to say and what not to say.”
Freeman’s slits of eyes gleamed, for he fathomed the prince’s plan. “Clever—devilishly clever!” he commented beneath his breath.
Twenty minutes later Berloff and his two subordinates were admitted to the Valenko palace by a sleepy servant. Berloff was ushered into a room richly furnished as an administrative office. The military governor raised his tall and portly body from his chair. He wore a dressing-gown of deep crimson, and what with his gray hair, his thick gray beard, his stern dominant face, and his military carriage, he was a rarely imposing figure of a man.
He greeted Berloff with grumbling cordiality. “What fool business is this, that pulls a man out of his bed at this time of the night?”
“So important that I did not feel justified in waiting till morning to refer it to you.”
“Well, sit down, and out with it.”
Both took chairs. “But first,” said Berloff sympathetically, “how is the princess?”
The general’s face softened with concern, and he sighed. Those who said that the harsh old despot loved his daughter put the truth conservatively.