As Lecazes was about to answer, there entered unannounced a man in the prime of life. He had a prepossessing nonchalant impetuous manner. This was Prince Ferdinand, second son of the King's brother Charles, sole hope of the race's continuation. He was not handsome but he possessed in a high manner the simple frankness and graceful address characteristic of certain members of the Bourbon family, which was so captivating as to create around them, even in times of popular discontent, an atmosphere of loyalty. Ferdinand was short of stature and irregular in feature, but his bright glance and irradiating vitality acted always as a great jubilant wave enveloping all near him. A generous and cordial nature, rising spontaneously to heroism, was revealed in his face, mingled with a noble energy. "Sire," he said, kissing his uncle's hand, "I pray you to pardon my intrusion. I have an urgent communication which must not be delayed a moment." Lecazes made a discreet movement of withdrawal. "No, no, Baron," interposed Ferdinand. "I pray you to remain. I expected to find you here. I know, besides, that His Majesty has no secrets from you. Indeed, I suppose you are better informed concerning this tangle than I, for your fingers it is that have woven the mesh." "To what does your Royal Highness allude?" asked Lecazes guardedly. "To letters which I constantly receive," replied Ferdinand sharply. "Letters which have kept me awake more than one night." "Love letters?" ironically inquired Lecazes. "Your Royal Highness inspires innumerable passions. 'Tis no marvel that these letters rain upon you. What I find amusing is your simplicity in taking them seriously." The Prince's frank countenance darkened. His brow contracted and his lips curled disdainfully as he replied: "Baron, I am not accustomed to discuss such questions with others,--least of all with the police! The matter concerns,--bah! why should I relate this to you?--the matter concerns a member of our family who has been rifled of personal documents and forced into exile, in order to avoid even more barbarous treatment." "Will Your Royal Highness be good enough to mention the name of--this--member of the royal House?" "You know his name better than I, since 'twas you who prepared the villainous ambuscade and the other iniquities which I shall not enumerate." "Who is Your Royal Highness's informant?" asked Lecazes, turning livid. "One who knows whereof he speaks," replied the Prince producing a packet of letters. "But Ferdinand, my son, why do you credit such calumniators?" interposed the King.