Matters came to a crisis on a certain dreadful evening when the Prince of Dardania, who was staying at one of his palaces a short distance on the other side of the frontier, dined at the castle. An invitation had been sent him, with what the King congratulated himself was a refinement of cruelty, that he might see with his own eyes how complete was the ruin of his hopes, and the scheme met with a success of which its originator had not dreamed. Whether through malice or through nervousness, Princess Ottilie overacted her part enormously that night, insomuch that she awakened doubts even in the mind of Prince Alexis, and thrilled Caerleon with a new horror. Perhaps she had changed her mind, and would after all refuse to release him,--and what would be his position in such a case? It comforted him to see that the Queen managed to exchange a few whispered words with the Prince, as he took his leave after an evening of chilling neglect, but he himself had an account to settle with Princess Ottilie. The next morning the pair had “words” in the conservatory, and Caerleon informed his _fiancée_ succinctly that he had no intention of being used as an instrument of torture with which to harass Prince Alexis. “If you try it on again, I shall simply make the whole thing known,” he said. “You threaten me?” wept the Princess. “Not if you behave decently,” he answered, with a roughness which only his desperate situation could excuse; “but if a man is supposed to be engaged, he has a right to have a voice in the proceedings of his--of the lady. The fact is, you think you can go as far as you like with me, and I won’t have it. You wouldn’t dare to carry on in this way with my brother Cyril, or any other man, because you know he might respond, and then you would get into trouble. But as I consider myself virtually engaged to some one else, and was soft-hearted enough to believe what you told me in the forest, you think you can make as big a fool of me as you like; but I’m not going to stand it.” “You are brutal,” sobbed Princess Ottilie. “As you say, any other man would feel honoured to be treated in the way I treat you.” “Let him,” said Caerleon. “I don’t; and I tell you plainly, it’s not to go on.” “You are a monster to talk to me like this, at any rate,” she said, drying her eyes. “Now that you have delivered your lecture, and I have listened, I will only say one thing, that I would never allow my prince to speak to me as you have done.”