“A bad night for it,” Karl observed, and glanced at the letter in his hand. “Was there any difficulty at the frontier?”
“None, sire.”
Karl tore the end off the envelope. “You will remain here to-night,” he said. “To-morrow morning I shall send dispatches to the city. I hope you have petrol. These fellows here—” He did not complete the sentence. He inserted two royal fingers into the envelope and drew out—Nikky’s cigarette papers!
For a moment there was complete silence in the room. Karl turned the papers over.
It was then that his face hardened into a horrible grin. He looked up, raising his head slowly.
“What is this?” he demanded, very quietly.
“The letter, sire,” said Nikky.
“The letter! Do you call these a letter?”
Nikky drew himself up. “I have brought the envelope which was given me.”
Without a word Karl held out papers and envelope to the other man, who took them. Then he turned to Nikky, and now he raised his voice. “Where did you get this—hoax?” he demanded.