"It is my accursed luck! The woman must have told the truth to this scoundrel of a Spaniard before—before she died!"
"And Lizette?" I asked. "She is a witness, the fellow says."
"No, no!" cried His Highness wildly, covering his white face with his hands as though to hide the guilt written upon his countenance. "Say no more! Ask the fellow's price, and pay him. We must not allow him to go to the Emperor."
Three minutes later I went back to my room, but it was empty. The Spaniard had walked out, and would, no doubt, be wandering somewhere in the private apartments.
At that instant the telephone rang, and, answering it, I heard that His Majesty had just arrived by car, and was on his way up to the room wherein I stood—the room in which he generally met his son.
For a moment I was perplexed, but a few seconds later I held my breath when I saw coming down the corridor the Emperor, and walking with him the adventurer, who had apparently met him on his way downstairs.
I confess that at that most dramatic moment I was entirely nonplussed. I saw how cleverly Aranda had timed his visit, and how, by some means, he knew of the internal arrangements of the Marmor Palace.
"Yes," the Emperor exclaimed to the Spaniard. "You wish to have audience. Well?"
In a second I broke in.
"May I be permitted to say a word, Your Majesty?" I said. "There is a little business matter pending between this gentleman and His Imperial Highness the Crown-Prince—a little dispute over money. I regret that Your Majesty should be disturbed by it. The matter is in course of settlement."