Berloff knew what was due to happen, while they sat at table, in the house over in Three Saints’ Court. But the expectation that, even while he ate and chatted, he was being put in direct command of the Howard fortune by Drexel’s death, did not make a ripple upon the surface of his composure. He asked Mr. Howard if any further word had been received from Drexel, and affected satisfaction when told of a second letter giving reassurance that Drexel would be back in time for the marriage. Beneath that calm front blazed a desire to know if all had gone as planned, but midnight had long passed before he could with propriety quit the company and hurry to his apartment. He found Captain Nadson waiting in his study. The captain told of the arrest of the famed White One, and of the evening’s other successes. “Yes--very good,” said the prince. “But the foreigner?” The captain hesitated. “He escaped.” “Escaped!” The prince stood up, his face suddenly dark. “How?” As Nadson told him, his thin lips drew back from his white teeth. “Fool--blockhead!” he cried. “But, Your Excellency, I succeeded in all else--and I have got the girl that shot at you,” protested the abashed officer. “You failed in the one thing I laid stress upon!” was the cold and fierce retort. It might have gone hard with Nadson then and there, had not a servant knocked and entered with a card. Berloff glanced at it. “Wait without--I’ll settle with you later!” he said ominously to the captain. He turned to the servant. “Show him in.” The big gendarme, thoroughly cowed, went out. The next moment Freeman weakly entered. The prince stared. And well he might, for there was not a patch of white in Freeman’s face. It was all purple and green, and so swollen that his eyes were but two narrow slits. “What’s the matter? Who did it?” “Drexel,” Freeman coolly returned. “Drexel! When? How? I thought he escaped.” Freeman calmly sat down and related what has already been told, adding that he had been taken as a political prisoner to police headquarters, where he had been recognized and released. The prince’s lips parted in wrath again. He rose and stood menacingly above the spy. “This is twice you people have had him in one night, and twice you have let him escape! Such infernal blunderers!” Freeman stood up and his pulpy, discoloured face looked straight into the pale, high-bred one. “Prince,” said he slowly, and the narrow slits blazed, “do you think you can talk to me as you do to your Russian officers?” They gazed at each other for a silent moment. “Pardon me--I lost my temper,” said the prince. Freeman nodded and sat down. “That Drexel must have the nerve of the devil!” Berloff continued. “He has,” was the calm response. “And I suppose we shall not get another chance at him.” “Won’t we! I have twice the reason I had before--and I’ll get him, sure! So don’t worry about his escape. Besides, if I have lost you Drexel I have brought you something even more important.”