Shortly before six o'clock that evening, the door of Lord Vernon's apartment opened, and the Prince of Markeld appeared on the threshold, bowed out in the politest manner possible by Blake, Collins, and Sir John. He crossed the corridor, paused irresolutely at the stairhead, then went on toward his own rooms, his head bent, his face expressing the liveliest dissatisfaction: an expression which deepened to disgust when, on opening his door, he perceived Tellier awaiting him within. "He would come in," explained Glück, after a glance at his master's countenance. "He lied; he said Your Highness was expecting him. Shall I throw him out?" "No," said the Prince, "not yet," and Glück retired to a convenient distance, confident that his hour would yet arrive. The detective, apparently, had no uneasiness concerning the result of the interview, for his face was beaming with self-importance and he greeted the Prince with a confidence born of certainty. His eyes asked the question which his lips were too well-governed and discreet to articulate. "Tellier," began the Prince, abruptly, looking at him with a fiery glance, "you are either a knave or a fool--a fool, doubtless, since you seem too stupid to be a knave--and you very nearly made me appear another!" The detective's face dropped suddenly from triumph to humility. "I do not understand," he faltered. "Does Your Highness mean--" "I mean that that story of yours was a ridiculous lie!" responded the Prince, brutally, being, indeed, greatly overwrought. "How do I know," he added, suddenly, "that you did not intentionally deceive me? I have only your word--what is that worth? How do I know that it was not a trick--a trick on the part of your government to involve me with England? That would be like you!" and his hands clenched and unclenched in a most threatening manner. "I swear to Your Highness," protested Tellier, his cheeks livid, his lips quivering convulsively, "that I told only the truth! On my heart, I swear it--on my soul--on the grave of my mother. Otherwise, pardieu, would I have been so imprudent as to remain here awaiting the return of Your Highness?" The Prince's face relaxed a little as he looked at him. "No," he agreed, grimly, after a moment. "I don't believe you would. Yes, you are a fool and not a knave. For I have just seen Lord Vernon with my own eyes--he is truly ill--sneezing as though his head would burst, gasping for breath, his eyes running water, cursing even the friends who nurse him! It was some one else who kicked my dog away. You have been deceived." Tellier was walking up and down the room, tugging at his imperial, at his hair, biting his nails, shaking his clenched hands at the ceiling in a very ecstasy of bewilderment. "Impossible!" he murmured, hoarsely. "Impossible!"