"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Perhaps you will tell me next that the Crown-Prince is an assassin? Come, that will be really interesting," I laughed. "Perhaps you will tell me how it all happened--the extent of your knowledge."
"Why should I do that? Go to the Crown-Prince and tell him what I allege--tell him that the girl, Lizette Sabin, whom he knows, was a witness."
"Well, let us come to business," I said. "How much do you want for your silence?"
"I want nothing--not a sou!" was the hard reply. "All I want is to reveal to the Emperor that his son is responsible for a woman's death. And that is what I intend doing. You hear that! Well, Count von Heltzendorff, please go and tell him so."
Quickly realizing the extreme gravity of the situation, I returned to the Crown-Prince and told him the startling allegation made against him.
"We must pay the fellow off. Close his mouth somehow. Help me, Heltzendorff," he implored. "What can I do? He must not reveal the truth to the Emperor!"
"Then it really is the truth!" I exclaimed, astounded.
The Crown-Prince hung his head, and in a low, hoarse voice replied:
"It is my accursed luck! The woman must have told the truth to this scoundrel of a Spaniard before--before she died!"
"And Lizette?" I asked. "She is a witness, the fellow says."
"No, no!" cried His Highness wildly, covering his white face with his hands as though to hide the guilt written upon his countenance. "Say no more! Ask the fellow's price, and pay him. We must not allow him to go to the Emperor."
Three minutes later I went back to my room, but it was empty. The Spaniard had walked out, and would, no doubt, be wandering somewhere in the private apartments.
At that instant the telephone rang, and, answering it, I heard that His Majesty had just arrived by car, and was on his way up to the room wherein I stood--the room in which he generally met his son.
For a moment I was perplexed, but a few seconds later I held my breath when I saw coming down the corridor the Emperor, and walking with him the adventurer, who had apparently met him on his way downstairs.
I confess that at that most dramatic moment I was entirely nonplussed. I saw how cleverly Aranda had timed his visit, and how, by some means, he knew of the internal arrangements of the Marmor Palace.