THE prince stared about at the transfixed party. In all his life he had never been more astounded. But after the first moment he had his astonishment under perfect control. He realized that he was master of the situation, and that the situation, near as it had been to spoiling all, fitted his desire as though framed by his private deity.
The governor had addressed him with obsequious pleasure and surprise, but him the prince had at first not heeded. But now he turned to him.
“Colonel Kavelin, would you mind explaining the meaning of this,” he said in his even voice.
“Certainly, Your Excellency. Captain Laroque here is removing these prisoners to Schlusselburg. Here is the order,” and he took it from his desk.
“Thank you. I do not care to see it.”
He turned to Drexel. “And so, Captain Laroque,” he said, with a glint of a white, sardonic smile, “you are removing these people to Schlusselburg.”
Drexel had run the whole gamut of emotions that night. There was no new dismay, no deeper fear, for him to feel. He had done his best, but fate had been against him from the first and the game was up; and there was nothing for it now but to meet the end as boldly as he could. He did not answer the prince, but he met his look calmly.
“I suppose you are not aware, Colonel Kavelin,” the prince continued in his even, conversational tone, “that your Captain Laroque is no captain at all, but a revolutionist.”
“What!” cried the governor.
“I recognize him as a leader who is wanted by the police, and I charge you to seize him.”