It was pretty hard to believe my eyes in the unexpected scene which swiftly followed. Prince Matani must have been in very bad humor to do what he did. I gathered that he had been standing in concealment, round the corner of the castle, for several minutes, listening in to the conversation, and nursing his jealousy and suspicion.
McGinity had just taken Pat's hand in his own when I saw the Prince's slim figure come round the corner suddenly, and upon them. Without uttering a word, he struck at the reporter. Of all expressions in the English language, I think "come-back" is one of the most significant. The Prince had no sooner planted a glancing blow on McGinity's jaw, still slightly discolored from Niki's knockout punch, when the reporter, with a quick come-back, swung a mighty right that sent the Prince backwards, reeling. It excited me almost to laughter to think that the reporter felt the same impulse towards the Prince as I.
Pat could be as cool as a cucumber when it was necessary. Turning to the Prince, she said, her face painfully drawn: "Why did you do this?"
The Prince made no reply. He gave her a sullen look and walked away.
McGinity met the situation good-naturedly. "If this keeps up," he remarked, working his jaw, "I'll have to wear a baseball catcher's mask whenever I come here, or ask for special police protection."
"It's extraordinary," said Pat, laughing in spite of herself, "that you should get two smacks in the face in succession. You must think we're a crazy lot. Anyway, that was a beautiful crack you gave His Highness, and he deserved it."
That practically ended the conversation. As they walked off, I turned in my chair to see the Prince in whispered conversation with Henry, obviously airing his grievances in connection with Pat and McGinity. I was rather surprised, but delighted, to hear Henry say to him: "This is your funeral, Your Highness. Your eye looks terrible. Better go upstairs, and have Niki put a cold compress on it."
The Prince had no sooner left the room to carry out Henry's suggestion when Pat and McGinity strolled in. I was uneasy for a moment, but Henry gave no indication that he knew what had just happened on the terrace. In matter-of-factness, he gave McGinity some final instructions, and dismissed him. Then the reporter left, and there was silence. Henry looked very grave.
"What's on your mind, Uncle Henry?" Pat asked, as she subsided into a chair.
Henry blew his nose, a trick he had when his feelings were disturbed. "I'm not angry, my dear," he began, and then paused to blow his nose again. "It isn't that I mind so much this extraordinary encounter between His Highness and Mr. McGinity—the reporter had every right to strike out in self-defense—but you cannot go on in this way. I know—"