“The lady,” von Ompertz continued, “was the Princess.”
The minister did not give the sign of surprise for which the other paused. “Go on,” he commanded again.
“She came towards me, then turned off by the organ. Under the strange circumstances a little curiosity was perhaps pardonable, seeing that, lying as I was in the deep shadow, its indulgence was safe. What was the Princess doing then all alone in the dark? I crawled forward till I could see round the screen behind which she had disappeared. Then I witnessed an unexpected sight, Excellency. I am a man of honour, and not even to save my neck would I have divulged what I saw to any one in this world but yourself.”
With a slightly cynical curve of the lip, Rollmar nodded him on. Ompertz came a step nearer and continued in a lower tone.
“The Princess was standing by an open door in the organ. From out the opening a figure appeared—a man’s.”
“He came from the organ?”
“Even so, Excellency; from the inside of the organ. They stayed there talking together. Unfortunately the man stood in the darkness. I could just make out his form, but not clearly enough to be able to identify his face were I to see him again. But the Princess stood where a streak of moonlight showed her face and—well, one has only two eyes, and if one had twenty the Princess would engage them all.”
“Go on with the story,” Rollmar said with quiet austerity.
Ompertz gave a bow of compliance. “They spoke together for some time, but in so low a tone that I could catch no word. Then I got a great start. So intent was I with observing the pair—for although I felt it was unfair, yet I dared not move back to my hiding-place—that I did not notice another lady who had entered the chapel and came now so close as almost to tread on me. Luckily she seemed in such a fluster that she did not see me. I lay still, scarcely daring to breathe.
“‘Princess!’ she cried. ‘Come! it is time. You will be missed!’