"No, sir, that is a question between the Comtesse Hermine and me; but with Prince Conrad I have another matter to settle. When Prince Conrad was staying at the Château d'Ornequin, he pestered with his attentions a lady living in the house. Finding himself rebuffed by her, he brought her here, to his villa, as a prisoner. The lady bears my name; and I came to fetch her." It was evident from the Emperor's attitude that he knew nothing of the story and that his son's pranks were a great source of worry to him. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Is the lady here?" "She was here last night, sir. But the Comtesse Hermine resolved to do away with her and gave her into the charge of Karl the spy, with instructions to take her out of Prince Conrad's reach and poison her." "That's a lie!" cried the Emperor. "A damnable lie!" "There is the bottle which the Comtesse Hermine handed to Karl the spy." "And then? And then?" said the Kaiser, in an angry voice. "Then, sir, as Karl the spy was dead and as I did not know the place to which my wife had been taken, I came back here. Prince Conrad was asleep. With the aid of one of my friends, I brought him down from his room and sent him into France through the tunnel." "And I suppose, in return for his liberty, you want the liberty of your wife?" "Yes, sir." "But I don't know where she is!" exclaimed the Emperor. "She is in a country house belonging to the Comtesse Hermine. Perhaps, if you would just think, sir . . . a country house a few hours off by motor car, say, a hundred or a hundred and twenty miles at most." The Emperor, without speaking, kept tapping the table angrily with the pommel of his sword. Then he said: "Is that all you ask?" "No, sir." "What? You want something more?" "Yes, sir, the release of twenty French prisoners whose names appear on a list given me by the French commander-in-chief." This time the Emperor sprang to his feet with a bound: "You're mad! Twenty prisoners! And officers, I expect? Commanders of army corps? Generals?" "The list also contains the names of privates, sir." The Emperor refused to listen. His fury found expression in wild gestures and incoherent words. His eyes shot terrible glances at Paul. The idea of taking his orders from that little French subaltern, himself a captive and yet in a position to lay down the law, must have been fearfully unpleasant. Instead of punishing his insolent enemy, he had to argue with him and to bow his head before his outrageous proposals. But he had no choice. There was no means of escape. He had as his adversary one whom not even torture would have caused to yield. And Paul continued: