“That is exactly what I intend now to do,” was his cold reply. “Our bargain was that I would return your letters on condition that you obtained the tracings of the key.”
“I failed to do that,” she cried frantically. “I was detected.”
“By Waldron. Because you intended that you should be caught in the act, and thus prevented from carrying out your part of the contract.”
“But surely you will give me back my letters!” she implored eagerly. “You will not hound me—a helpless girl—to death by my own hand! I could not bear the exposure, for the honour of my House.”
“You should have thought of all that before,” he laughed mockingly. “The bargain was fair enough, and you accepted readily.”
“Because I could not bear exposure. Think what the publication of those letters will mean to me. In them I have admitted committing a theft. I—a Royal Princess—have betrayed my own country?”
“You are not the first woman who has sacrificed her life for her love,” he answered, quite regardless of her emotion.
“But have you no pity for me, no remorse?” she cried in frantic despair.
“I repeat that, to me, this is not a matter of sentiment. All I required was the cipher key plan—which you actually had in your possession and gave up to Waldron. I was in the Ministry that night in the garb of a waiter. I watched him follow you into the Minister’s private cabinet, and I saw Ghelardi go in later. He came out, and presently you came out with Waldron. I followed you both down to the vestibule, but from your faces I knew that you had been discovered.”
“Yes, Mijoux Flobecq,” she cried in sudden defiance, “the game is up, and the honour of Italy is saved. The timely entry of Mr Waldron into that room has averted a European war!”