"But the Prince, Tom?"
Moore's face saddened, but he rid himself of his regret with a shrug of the shoulders.
"Poor man," he said. "He thinks harshly of me, no doubt. Ah, well, perhaps it is better so, Mr. Dyke. And yet I 'd be easier in my mind if he knew how I regard him. I have no feelings save those of friendship and gratitude in my heart for him but he 'll never know."
"Yours is a generous soul, Thomas."
"To-night I can say as truly and fondly as on that evening his favor plucked me from poverty and failure, 'God bless the Prince Regent.'"
"It is needless to say I echo that sentiment, Mr. Moore."
Moore turned with a low cry. The Prince had stepped noiselessly from behind the curtain to the centre of the room, and stood with a smile on his face, enjoying his involuntary host's surprise.
"Your Highness," stammered Moore, for once thoroughly abashed. "Your Highness!"
"Aye, Wales himself. Good evening, Mr. Dyke. It seems that I have wronged you, Moore."
"Your Highness heard?"