Quite by accident he met Etta at the head of the state staircase, and expressed such admiration for the castle that she opened the door of the large drawing-room and took him to see that apartment. "What I arranged for Thursday is for the day after to-morrow--Tuesday," said De Chauxville, as soon as they were alone. "We cannot keep them back any longer. You understand--the side door to be opened at seven o'clock. Ah! who is this?" They both turned. Steinmetz was standing behind them, but he could not have heard De Chauxville's words. He closed the door carefully, and came forward with his grim smile. "À nous trois!" he said, and the subsequent conversation was in the language in which these three understood each other best. De Chauxville bit his lip and waited. It was a moment of the tensest suspense. "À nous trois!" repeated Steinmetz. "De Chauxville, you love an epigram. The man who overestimates the foolishness of others is himself the biggest fool concerned. A lame horse--the prince's generosity--making your adieux. Mon Dieu! you should know me better than that after all these years. No, you need not look at the door. No one will interrupt us. I have seen to that." His attitude and manner indicated a complete mastery of the situation, but whether this assumption was justified by fact or was a mere trick it was impossible to say. There was in the man something strong and good and calm--a manner never acquired by one who has anything to conceal. His dignity was perfect. One forgot his stoutness, his heavy breathing, his ungainly size. He was essentially manly, and a presence to be feared. The strength of his will made itself felt. He turned to the princess with the grave courtesy that always marked his attitude toward her. "Madame," he said, "I fully recognize your cleverness in raising yourself to the position you now occupy. But I would remind you that that position carries with it certain obligations. It is hardly dignified for a princess to engage herself in a vulgar love intrigue in her own house." "It is not a vulgar love intrigue!" cried Etta, with blazing eyes. "I will not allow you to say that! Where is your boasted friendship? Is this a sample of it?" Karl Steinmetz bowed gravely, with outspread hands. "Madame, that friendship is at your service, now as always." De Chauxville gave a scornful little laugh. He was biting the end of his mustache as he watched Etta's face. For a moment the woman stood--not the first woman to stand thus--between two fears. Then she turned to Steinmetz. The victory was his--the greatest he had ever torn from the grasp of Claude de Chauxville. "You know," she said, "that this man has me in his power." "You alone. But not both of us together," answered Steinmetz. De Chauxville looked uneasy. He gave a careless little laugh. "My good Steinmetz, you allow your imagination to run away with you. You interfere in what does not concern you."