“I fear that is so, Altesse, but the world is wide; there are many very comfortable trains which leave Vienna this evening. If you travel it will mean delay — important witnesses against you may disappear — time is on your side in this affair.”
“If there were no one to prove our identity, however, they could not apply for our extradition, I imagine,” the Duke said, softly.
“No, that is true.” Herr Murenberg stood up. “But this man is here, Excellency. For the sake of the old days I trust that I may not have to make this arrest tomorrow morning.”
De Richleau took his hand. “I am more grateful to you, my dear Fritz, than I can say, you may rely on me to spare you that painful duty.”
III
The dinner-table was gay with flowers, the string band was worthy of the Viennese traditions, the champagne sparkled in the glasses. To Marie Lou it was like fairyland.
Richard sat on her right, Simon on her left. Across the table were Rex and De Richleau, between them the long, humorous face of Gerry Bruce.
Dinner was over, the Duke was handing round cigars, the first of a new box of the famous Hoyos, that had arrived with his clothes that afternoon from London. Marie Lou had just finished a peach, the first that she had ever seen in her life, the flavour lingered, exquisite, on her tongue — she was in Heaven. She looked across at Rex. “Have you arranged everything?” she asked.
He grinned. “Sure thing. There won’t be any fool — ”
“Hush!” she exclaimed, quickly.