The hit, so quietly delivered, told the more heavily from its total unexpectedness. In the game of surprises the Count could not but own himself worsted. But, with the perfect nerve system of a healthy tiger, he did not take long to recover himself.
“Then it would appear that my house has indeed been honoured,” he laughed, as nettled by his discomfiture. “I do not doubt your veracity, Baron,” he continued, less roughly as he regained greater command of himself, “since your very presence here goes far to prove it.”
As he spoke, he was rapidly reviewing his position, as seen in this new light. Could he, even yet, hold this prize? It was not in his nature to give up anything on which his heart was set. Still the keen old man confronting him was not one to be brow-beaten. All the same, why should he not try? At the worst he could but capitulate if he found his position untenable.
“It is a very pretty story,” he continued, with another disagreeable laugh of incredulity. “Your statement that your Princess is roaming about the country is one which I am ready to accept from your lips. But when you take upon yourself to declare that she is detained under my roof, I must beg to join issue and repudiate the assertion, even coming, as it does, from so illustrious a source.”
“You deny it, Count?” Rollmar would cut short this unprofitable fencing. He was not a man to be played with, although the vivid recollection of Ruperta’s superb beauty made Irromar neglectful of the fact.
“I must, Excellency, you are wasting your time——”
“I think I am,” he retorted dryly. “Therefore let me conclude my errand. As I have already suggested, I should wish to conduct this business between us in an amicable manner. That being so, I will, if you will permit me, put before you my view, an old statesman’s view, of the position in which you stand.”
“By all means, Excellency,” the Count assented readily. The possible consequences of his act, and its chance of success were just what he was curious to learn.
The Chancellor put the tips of his long white fingers together, and spoke as coolly as though, instead of facing in his den, perhaps the most dangerous and unscrupulous breaker of laws, divine and human, in Europe, he were discussing a clause of a new bill with a secretary in his own bureau. But it is in critical situations that the real staying power of a man’s character shows itself.
“Shortly, then,” he began. “You say that these ladies are not detained here by you. That may or, pardon me, may not be the truth. I shall not concern myself to argue it. But,” he proceeded, as the suggestion of sternness in his equable tone grew somewhat in its restrained intensity, “we, that is the State which I have the honour to represent, have the warrant of sufficient evidence to convince us that it is a denial which we cannot accept. Your own antecedents, Count, you must allow,” here the old intriguer smiled deprecatingly, “are scarcely such as make for implicit confidence in your bare word.”