“Of whom are you speaking? And why did my wife protect that wretch whom she knows has stolen her diamonds?” “You mean von Schaumberg?” “Yes.” “I believe the Princess does think he stole them, and the reason the Princess protects him is to prevent you from challenging him, for she fears that he, being a military man, will kill you, although I fancy she would be well rid of you.” “But he stole the diamonds--there was nobody else.” “He did nothing of the kind. Read that!” The Prince, bewildered, took the sheet that she handed to him and read it, a wrinkle of bewilderment corrugating his brow. “I don’t understand what this has to do with the case,” he said at last. “It seems to be an order on the bank at Vienna for the diamonds, written by the Princess herself.” “Of course it is. Well, if the diamonds had been delivered, that paper would now be in the possession of the bank instead of in your hands.” “Perhaps she mislaid this order and wrote another.” “Perhaps. Still it might be worth while finding out.” “Take this, then, to the Princess and ask her.” “It is not likely she would remember. The better plan is to telegraph at once to the Vienna bank, asking them to send the diamonds to Meran by special messenger. No one there knows that the diamonds are missing.” “I will do so at once,” cried the Prince, with more animation in his voice than Miss Baxter had previously noticed. His Highness was becoming interested in the game. After luncheon the Princess came to Miss Baxter, who was seated at her desk, and handed her a letter. “There is an invitation from the Duchess of Chiselhurst for a grand ball she is shortly to give in her London house. It is to be a very swell affair, but I don’t care enough for such things to go all the way to England to enjoy them. Would you therefore send her Grace my regrets?” “I will do so at once.” At that moment there came a messenger from the Prince asking Miss Baxter to meet him in the library. The girl glanced up at the Princess. “Have I your permission to go?” she said. The Princess looked at her steadily for a moment, just the faintest suspicion of a frown on her fair brow. “I do not suppose you need my permission.” Her Highness spoke with slow deliberation. “My husband condescends to take considerable interest in you. Passing along the corridor this morning, I heard your voices in most animated conversation.” “Had you sufficient interest in our discussion to stop and listen to what we said, Princess von Steinheimer?” “Ah, now you are becoming insolent, and I must ask you to consider your engagement with me at an end.” “Surely you will not dismiss me in this heartless way, Princess. I think I am entitled to a month’s notice, or is it only a week’s?”