“It’s the greatest lark I ever had,” he chuckled. “Haven’t you begun to see the fun of it yet, uncle?” The grand duke sighed. “Are you never going to be serious?” he asked sadly. “Do you mean to go through life taking everything as a jest, content to remain an irresponsible boy always?” The prince straightened suddenly, and there came into his handsome face an expression which was very far from boyish. His jaw squared, and he pressed his lips firmly together as he stood regarding his uncle out of clear, level, uncompromising eyes. “It isn’t any use, uncle,” he said abruptly. “My mind is made up, and nothing you can say will induce me to change.” The grand duke’s lips parted as if he meant to speak, but closed swiftly again, and he darted a significant glance at the man with the beard. “Be so good as to leave us, baron,” he said curtly. Baron Hager gave a start and turned hastily toward the door, followed closely by his two compatriots and the American detectives. Brennen brought up the rear, moving with evident reluctance, as if there were numberless points about the affair he was pining to have cleared up. “By the way, Mr. Brennen,” Lawrence called after him, struck by a sudden thought, “whatever you’ve done to my two friends, I’d be obliged if you would undo it at once.” The detective nodded sourly and closed the door behind him. As he disappeared, Barry realized that it would be more graceful for him also to leave the room; but, when he made a move to do so, the crown prince caught him by the arm. “Please stay,” he said quietly. “Mr. Lawrence is my friend, uncle. Whatever you say before him will go no farther.” “As you will,” returned the grand duke indifferently. He hesitated an instant, his eyes fixed pleadingly upon his nephew’s face. “Oscar,” he went on swiftly, “your father, the king, has sent me to beg of you to come home to your family, your people, your country. He wants you. He needs you. You cannot realize the nature of the step you have taken. You acted hastily--heedlessly. For the honor of the throne, Oscar, I beg of you--I beseech you--to give up your harebrained scheme and resume again the place in life to which you were born.” There was no gleam of mirth in the face of the crown prince now. It was firm and serious and a little white; his eyes were fixed unfalteringly on his uncle’s face. “And what of my wife?” he asked quietly. A flicker of pain flashed into the grand duke’s face and was gone. “There are ways----” he began hesitatingly. “Ways!” broke in the prince swiftly. “What ways? You mean a morganatic marriage, I suppose. You know that is impossible, even if I would consider it. She is an American girl.” Lawrence, standing a little behind the duke, listening with an interest he made no attempt to conceal, noticed how the faint, foreign intonation--it could hardly be called an accent--in the young man’s voice was intensified in a moment of excitement.