He had dropped into the jargon of his calling, and his tone fell from bluster to complaint.
“You take a somewhat unmannerly way of enforcing your demands,” the other observed sarcastically. “I will take a leaf out of your book. Restore at once to this lady what you have taken from her.”
The professor gave a grin of cunning defiance.
“If I tell you who this lady is,” he returned, with a malignant look at the princess, who had meanwhile drawn over her face the hood and cloak which the struggle had thrown off, “you may think, my good sir, that I am not unreasonably paid.”
The veiled threat was significant, but before any possible effect could be apparent the young officer quietly took the wind out of the other’s sails.
“I am as well aware of this lady’s identity as you can be, Master Quacksalver,” he said. “Now, as her highness cannot wish to stay here longer, you will at once restore what you have taken.”
Parabosco hesitated. The diamond ornament was worth many a week’s income to him, and his game in that city was up. Quietly, but with intensely significant action, the young man drew his sword. The jewel was not to be kept; Parabosco sullenly tossed it on the table.
The other man took it up in surprise. “That?” he exclaimed. “You filched that, you scoundrel, to pay for your hocus-pocus! Princess, your brooch.” He placed it in her hand with a bow almost of homage.
“I thank you, sir,” she said simply, so coolly that under the circumstances the words sounded almost ungracious.
“That is not all, perhaps?”