Without a flicker of anger or impatience Haganè, still facing the count, inquired, "Does the young man act with your authority?"
"Mon Dieu, your Highness! No. Monsieur Le Beau has a certain official connection—but in such a private matter"—Spread hands and a shrug completed the thought.
"Were you not at my villa this morning?" Haganè had turned suddenly to Pierre.
What could the Frenchman say? "No," came the pliant lie.
"Come now, Prince Haganè!" began Ronsard, genially. "You see it's all a mistake. Forgive the boy his embarrassment. He is ill. To accuse him of purloining a private letter! Mother of God! In France it means a duel—"
"Not purloining, your Excellency," corrected Haganè. "Taking by accident,—quite by accident. That is different. If our young friend was suffering from delirium he may have forgotten. Ask him to feel in his pocket."
"It's a damnable lie, hatched for some personal reason," said Pierre.
Haganè slowly rose. It was as if bronze moved. Ronsard instinctively imitated him, watching closely. He was convinced, now, that Haganè knew; but could not guess his next move.
"My time is valuable to-day," said the Japanese, drawling a little. "I must speak with Monsieur Le Beau alone."
Blank silence fell on the group. Haganè looked from one to the other, a slight shade of contempt growing in his eyes. "Is Monsieur Le Beau afraid?" he asked politely. "I assure you, gentlemen, I am unarmed. Even so, he might feel safer with a knife, a pistol. I regret that mine is at home, or I would be pleased to lend it. Perhaps one of these gentlemen can accommodate you."