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Updated: June 25, 2025
"Paul, Prince Saradine, A vos ordres," said the venerable person politely, lifting a glass of sherry. "I live here very quietly, being a domestic kind of fellow; and for the sake of modesty I am called Mr. Paul, to distinguish me from my unfortunate brother Mr. Stephen. He died, I hear, recently in the garden. Of course, it is not my fault if enemies pursue him to this place.
On the front of the card was engraved in the formal fashion, "Prince Saradine, Reed House, Reed Island, Norfolk." He had not troubled much about the prince then, beyond ascertaining that he had been a brilliant and fashionable figure in southern Italy.
The stiff Mr. Paul bowed and answered in his inaudible manner; for a few minutes their conversation could not be heard. Then the butler said, "Everything is at your disposal;" and the glove-flapping Prince Saradine came gaily into the room to greet them. They beheld once more that spectral scene five princes entering a room with five doors.
"Flambeau," he said, "so you're not killed?" "Killed!" repeated the angler in great astonishment. "And why should I be killed?" "Oh, because nearly everybody else is," said his companion rather wildly. "Saradine got murdered, and Antonelli wants to be hanged, and his mother's fainted, and I, for one, don't know whether I'm in this world or the next. But, thank God, you're in the same one."
You see what a weariness my life will be to me under these circumstances, and yet I assure you I am not ungrateful to you for all your kindness!" I did all I could, continued Saradine, 'to make her think better of it, but in vain; so after going through the usual ceremony for taking back my gifts, I'm come to you for a little peace and quietness.
The unhappy captain, in his new clothes, entered the house in triumph as a prince, and walked upon the Sicilian's sword. "There was one hitch, and it is to the honour of human nature. Evil spirits like Saradine often blunder by never expecting the virtues of mankind.
Prince Saradine distributed his social attentions between his guests with great gaiety and tact.
"You mean to say," he began, "that the will of Prince Saradine " "I am Prince Saradine," said the old man, munching a salted almond. Father Brown, who was looking at the birds outside, jumped as if he were shot, and put in at the window a pale face like a turnip. "You are what?" he repeated in a shrill voice.
They were swarthy men, and some of them wore earrings. But one of them stood forward beside the olive-faced young man in the red waistcoat, and carried a large black case of unfamiliar form. "Your name," said the young man, "is Saradine?" Saradine assented rather negligently.
'Dear, dear! what is the matter? said the Fairy of the Beech-Woods soothingly. 'The matter! cried Saradine. 'You shall soon hear all about it.
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