“I have the honour of addressing Prince Florizel of Bohemia?” said he.
“Such is my title,” replied the Prince. “What do you want with me?”
“I am,” said the man, “a detective, and I have to present your Highness with this billet from the Prefect of Police.”
The Prince took the letter and glanced it through by the light of the street lamp. It was highly apologetic, but requested him to follow the bearer to the Prefecture without delay.
“In short,” said Florizel, “I am arrested.”
“Your Highness,” replied the officer, “nothing, I am certain, could be further from the intention of the Prefect. You will observe that he has not granted a warrant. It is mere formality, or call it, if you prefer, an obligation that your Highness lays on the authorities.”
“At the same time,” asked the Prince, “if I were to refuse to follow you?”
“I will not conceal from your Highness that a considerable discretion has been granted me,” replied the detective, with a bow.
“Upon my word,” cried Florizel, “your effrontery astounds me! Yourself, as an agent, I must pardon; but your superiors shall dearly smart for their misconduct. What, have you any idea, is the cause of this impolitic and unconstitutional act? You will observe that I have as yet neither refused nor consented, and much may depend on your prompt and ingenuous answer. Let me remind you, officer, that this is an affair of some gravity.”