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He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. He wrote and explained these things to me and the letter is in safe hands. The arrest of Lucille, my dear Prince, would mean the ruin of your amiable society." "This letter," the Prince said slowly, "why was it not produced at the inquest? Where is it now?"
The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept up still a semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had ruled with despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger daughter of a ducal house, which had more than once intermarried with Royalty. The others, too, had their claims to be considered amongst the greatest families of Europe.
"I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer," the Duke said coldly, "but it is beginning to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations. It seemed natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that some attempt should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly convert, Reginald Brott by means of the influence of a very charming woman.
Brott declared. "Wait here," the Prince answered. Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key from his pocket unlocked the door. Inside Lucille was pale with fury. "What! I am a prisoner, then!" she exclaimed. "How dare you lock me in? This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of all this stupid espionage." The Prince stood with his back to the door.
"Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel." The place was beginning to go round. Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It was there before her in bold, black letters: "Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel." Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her fingers were clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and falling quickly. If he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys were calling? What a jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return? Perhaps he was afraid! Her heart stood still for a moment, and a little half-stifled cry broke from her lips.
Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those whose faces were familiar to him. But between him and the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting. The two men eyed one another for a moment coldly. Each seemed to be trying to read the other through. "I believe," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have that privilege. I see, however, that I am interrupting your game.
Sabin?" he answered roughly. "What has that to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchess have both told me the history of your married life. Or is the whole thing a monstrous lie?" he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of the truth. "Nonsense! I won't believe it. Lucille! You're not afraid! I shall be good to you. You don't doubt that. Sabin will divorce you of course.
For I am an old man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy, the friend of the Prince." "I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if this is really the secret of your mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest in life save to serve Saxe Leinitzer?" "As to that," he answered, "I cannot say. Yet I know that only a few months ago you were acting under orders from him.
But I do not propose to allow you to run a poison bureau for the advantage of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and his friends more especially, perhaps, as I am at present upon his list of superfluous persons." The man trembled. "Monsieur," he said, "the Prince knows as much as you know, and he has not the mercy that one shows to a dog." "You will find," Mr.
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